


A Lo Hecho, Pecho

by HannaBobanna



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Lance, Child Soldiers, Crime Family AU, Deception, Eventual Smut, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gay Keith, Gay Shiro, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Langst, Lying About Identity, Multi, Slow Burn, They're still going to be in space, do people still use the term langst or was that left in season 3??, eh well i do, eventually, mentions of child prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-07-11 22:00:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15981377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaBobanna/pseuds/HannaBobanna
Summary: “Mama?” Alejandro approaches his mother one morning. It’s his sixth birthday, an important day for a child in the Serrano family. “Are we bad?”The matriarch of the house pauses, her gloved hands hovering over dishes soaking in soapy water. Normally she’d get one of the housemaids to do it, but due to Alejandro’s birthday she decided to give them all a break to go off and visit families of their own. It was, after all, the nice thing to do. “Why do you ask such a question, Mijo?”“I dunno. Some of the things Hermano said he was going to teach me seem bad.” Camila hums thoughtfully and resumes her dishwashing.“We do what is necessary to survive and thrive. Does that really make us all that bad?” The child ponders on this for a second before shrugging.“Guess not.”-Alejandro Serrano has a duty to his family. It's a thing he's never questioned before, and he's never even thought of betraying that way of life. However, his world his promptly thrown upside down on a new contract and the line separating him and his alias is blurred beyond recognition.





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this work come scream at me on tumblr over @ aclassythot. The story currently has no beta so anyone interested can head on over there as well!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDITED: 3/31/19
> 
> FIXED: Grammatical and spelling errors

 

The midnight air still manages to feel quite humid as he makes his way through the crowded streets of Havana. It’s the city’s busiest time of day, where sinners and saints alike come together for a bit of harmless fun. People laughing, music echoing, and the general city noises all fill his ears in a pleasant manner. It’s a nice contrast to the awful summer heat, and he’s disappointed to have it fade into a mere background noise as he steps into a nearly deserted alleyway.

The lights glow a dangerous red on the porches of stingy looking doorways, and had he not been accustomed to it he would have been slightly intimidated. Not to say that he wouldn’t rather be out in the streets, laughing and partying and acting like his age instead of making this horrid journey alone. Nobody has ever walked with him before though, and no one ever will. This job is a lonely one despite revolved around the basis of family.

“Hermanito?” A strained voice calls out, and he snaps his head to take in the form of his twin sister leaning out of a doorway at the very end of the alley. She looks far more disheveled than normal, with her hair thrown up in a sloppy bun and her face broken out. It’s a divergence from the girl he’s grown up with who always had neat hair and clear skin. She stands barefoot on a crumbling staircase that only has two steps. Right by her head a molded red orange flag stands completely still, the emblem long ago faded from the weather. He finds the scene to be absolutely miserable.

“Lookin sharp, Rae.” The boy greets with a teasing smile. His tucks his hands away in the pockets of his slacks to emit some form of casualness, anything to block out the awful tension. It does nothing, because they both know this isn’t a simple family reunion.

She rolls her eyes at him. “Why are you standing all the way over there? Come in, come in.” She turns, her short, white skirt twirling with her as she steps into the building. His sister was never one for preamble or pussyfooting around.

“Right, well, hello to you too.” He mutters to himself as he makes his way up the stairs and into his sister’s establishment. Rachel ran a business that greatly helped in the long run. A nicer term to call it was Intel gathering, but the truth was far more..grotesque. He doesn’t want to call his sister an escort, but it is what it is. She, and three of their cousins, bring in the richest of men and women for a night of pleasure and in return they not only get money, but information too.

He actually doesn’t know much about the information gathering part, because it all makes him rather uncomfortable. He’s profoundly glad that he doesn’t normally deal with this side of the business, though none of them are exactly moral jobs. All of them are necessary to survive, especially in their poverty-stricken country.

His thoughts are interrupted as he takes in the site of the main room, which smells of freshly lit cigars and sweat. He’s never liked the scent of the place, and neither has Rachel. He supposes she’s lucky that she built up an immunity to such awful smells. Pressed up against the yellow walls are fluffy looking couches, each accompanying oak coffee tables in front of them. There are papers scrawled across one them, covered with both spanish and english writings. He can’t decipher what they are, but it must be Intel on recent clients. He also notes that she got a new rug to cover up the concrete floor and it looks about as inviting as the couches. She may be a prostitute but she certainly doesn’t live on a prostitute budget.

Noises echo from the narrow hallway that leads to the servicing rooms, and if he weren’t trained to hide it he would have blushed furiously. “Maria is working with a client from Russia.” Rae speaks up from where she’s reclined on one of the couches. He moves to sit on the opposite end of the couch. “It’s only going to benefit us financially because the fucker doesn’t know any spanish and his english is limited.” The older twin looks stressed. Abuela must be wanting more Intel for whatever reason.

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, it does.” Absentmindedly, Rachel picks up a sheet off of the table. It’s wrinkled at the corners. “But not as much as this new Job is going to suck for you.” Jobs that come from Rachel’s side of the family always does.

“And why do you say that, sister dearest?” He hums, hiding away his nervousness in a false bravado as he leans back to throw his arms over the back of the couch.

“It’s an American contract.” He pauses. She sets the paper down and picks at her blue nails.

“What do you mean, American contract?”

“It means what it means, Alejandro.”

The boy, Alejandro, makes an irritated noise. “My last contract in America ended disastrously. I ended up having to kill the whole fucking family.”

“Yes, how could I forget the Massacre of the Reynolds family?” She says with unconcealed sarcasm.

“How could anyone?” Alejandro groans and rubs a hand over his face. “It was in the headlines for over a month. Papa was so pissed off at me.” God, what a beating that was. He never wants to repeat it again.

“You’ll be glad to know that it isn’t just an assassination job then.” He expected as much, since it was Rachel giving him the contract and not Mama or Luis.

“But I still have to kill people?”

“Well, just one this time around. No need to kill an entire family.” Rachel leans over the side of the couch and shifts around in her purse, coming up to pull out an envelope. She hands it to him. “Here, don’t open this until you’re back at home.”

Alejandro takes it with a look of distaste on his face. If he had the choice, he’d reject the job quicker than he could blink. Maybe if he were a cousin, or a nephew, instead of the son of the head of the family. God, he’d do anything to not do this. American jobs always made him so fucking nervous, because all of the big guns are in America and if they hear the Serrano family is dealing assassinations it could mean absolute ataxia. And who’s fault would it be? His. Mama and Papa wouldn’t be able to save his hide then.

“You’re going to be posing as a student at the Garrison, a military school. It’s going to be a tricky job, for sure, and will probably last more than a year.” He sputters. A year from home? His sister gives him a knowing look.

“Alone?”

“Veronica will come along later, but don’t expect her anytime soon.” That thought is at least a tad bit comforting. “Your alias is Lance Charles McClain. You’re a student that makes average grades and is training to be a fighter pilot. On top of that, you’re from a family of immigrants who moved from Mexico to Texas, but you were born and raised in America and barely know any Spanish.” He hates erasing his identity, but it’s for the greater good of the family. “That’s the basis, at least. There’s more information on your identity in there.” She gestures to the envelope now seated in Alejandro’s lap.

“Lots of thought has been put into this one.” He comments. “What makes them think I’m ready for a long term contract?” The only Serrano sibling to get a long term mission was Luis, and even then he was at the ripe age of 21. Lance has barely surpassed his preteen years, sitting at the delicate age of sixteen. His longest contract to date was the assassination of Ermond Krasniqi over in Albania, which lasted an entire two months. He felt like a fish outside of water the entire time.

Rachel shrugs. “They made me take over this whole thing when we were fourteen, and I certainly didn’t feel ready at the time. I think that perhaps it’s a test.” He scoffs.

“A test for what? My loyalty? What do they think I’m going to do, snitch to the PNR?” It’s Rachel’s turn to scoff, but she adds a dramatic eye roll.

“Not like that, hermanito. Luis is going to be retiring soon. With Nadia and Sylvio getting older he wants to train them personally. He needs a replacement. It can’t be me or Veronica, and Marco is still working with the drug cartel. So maybe they want you to take his place. By the time this mission is over you’ll be eighteen or nineteen, a perfect age to take over Assassinations completely. You’ve already got the talent for it, but maybe the family needs more convincing?” The words hang heavy in his head, and he slumps into the couch even further. A pleasured scream comes from the hallway, telling them they need to hurry the conversation up.

“Nevermind all of that for now, tell me about the target before Maria is done.”

“Right, of course. Your target is the Garrison headmaster, Oliver Iverson. But overall, Abuela wants you to gather as much intel regarding military strategies and personnel as possible. Your time limit is three years, but it shouldn’t take that long. We’ve got an inside man who you’ll report all of your findings to.”

“That it?” He asks, standing up and grabbing the envelope. He slips it into a hidden pocket located at the front of his suit jacket.

“Yeah, that should be it. You’re free to go back to Varadero and prepare. Abuela is giving you a week to get ready, more than enough time.” She watches him with sharp eyes that at one point matched his own, but hers now are tired, with black circles marking her tanned skin.

“Understood. I’ll just be on my way now. Adios, hermana.”

As he steps out of the door, he feels like a part of himself is being lost. He’s not sure why, but he feels awfully lonely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loves! I hope you enjoyed this prelude and continue to read onward. I myself am not cuban but I've tried to be as culturally accurate as possible!


	2. Detention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this should update every Sunday most likely, sans this chapter because i'm unavailable tomorrow. I'm still not sure yet, to be honest. Anyways I really hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> EDIT: 3/31/19
> 
> FIXED: Grammatical and Spelling errors.
> 
> 3/31/19 Note: Yeah uh, we all see how that turned out for me. Updates will depend on my mood and the general reception of the story!

“Ugh,” Lance groans from where he’s sprawled out on his bed. Well, Hunk’s bed. His was unmade when he came in so instead of making it back up he went and stole his dorm mates. He's gotten comfortable in his position as a lazy roommate. The big guy doesn’t mind, and after knowing him for an entire six months he’s gotten so used to his antics that he doesn’t even bat an eye. “Hunk, my dude, my stomach is killing me.”  

Hunk rolls his eyes and continues to work on his paper. Lance honestly thinks he should take a break because he’s been stressing over it for weeks now. Stress like that is no Buenos for an anxious guy like Hunk. “I’m sure you’re fine Lance. But I do think this is an appropriate time for an ‘I told you so’. Which, by the way, _I so friggin’ told you so_.”

In retaliation, Lance flings a pillow at his friend’s head. He doesn’t even flinch as it makes collision. When he gets focused there really is no stopping him, most geniuses have this trait he comes to find out. Once, Lance might’ve been considered a genius. He does, after all, know six languages and was homeschooled and taught by the best the Caribbeans had to offer. But now, after meeting Hunk, he doesn’t really feel like a genius. He supposes, however, there’s a fine line between linguist and mathematician.

“How was I supposed to know the chicken went bad?” He huffs and rolls onto his side, back facing the wall. “Isn’t this like, a government school or something? We should be dining like royalty.” 

“Technically all public schools are government schools.”

“Military school.” Lance corrects with a twinge of irritation.

“And you should have known it was bad, because I looked at it and said ‘Lance, that chicken is bad, don’t eat it.’ and you know what you did? You ate it!” He punctuates his words with sharp jabs at his holoboard. American technology still amazes him, even after being here for half a year. “So I feel absolutely no sympathy for you at all.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Hunky Wunky…” 

The Samoan lets out a long exasperated sigh. “Yes, Lance, I’ll go get meds from the nurse for you.” He swipes his hand, and the holoboard disappears, as does the holoscreen containing his paper. In Cuba, they still only have touch screens attached to a device, nothing holographic. Lance is awfully homesick, but he can admit that he’ll miss all of the cool technology once he’s home.  

“Awe, you’re so sweet for volunteering like that. You’re like, a literal angel. What would I ever do without you, my love?” Hunk waves him off.

“Sweet talking won’t win you brownie points.” He says, but the pinched up expression on his face is gone, easily replaced with an easy going smile. His friend really does have such a lovely smile, it brightens up his face, and in response, the entire room.

“Me? Sweet talk? _Never_.”

“Sure, Lance.” He laughs, and then he’s gone.

The shift in the atmosphere is noticeable, the domestic lightheartedness twisting into something far more tense. Alejandro drops the Lance act and slides out of the sheets, bending over to pull out a book bag from under his bed. He unzips it and pulls out one of many burner phones he uses to contact their inside man. The boy still doesn’t know who it is, and doesn’t really care to know either. His job is to stick with his contract, not dig for family information he has no business digging in.

Admittedly, Alejandro feels a bit guilty for lying to Hunk and making him leave to go get him medicine he doesn’t even need. Well, he doesn’t feel bad about the lying part, just more so the part where he’s distracting him from the important paper. And, for the record, his stomach does actually hurt, but it’s nothing compared to getting shot or stabbed. He can deal with it, he just needed Hunk to leave as soon as possible.

With steady fingers, he punches in the number and sends off a simple text.

_3 miles off campus. Big tree next to Methodist Church._

They had to change the drop off location every time just in case, and this time Alejandro takes extra precaution to make sure that it’s well hidden within the roots of the tree. The information he found on a sergeant could be extremely beneficial to Marco’s operations coming in and out of the coast of california, because as it turns out she’s apart of the Mexican mafia over there. It took months of digging and asking around his contacts, but the payoff was nice. At least, he hopes so. The drug business has always brought in a good flow of contacts and income.

He hastily throws the phone back into the bag and shoves it under his bed once more, before throwing himself back and feigning sickness. This is his biggest break since coming to the Garrison, aside from finding out the personal information of all of the personnel. Alejandro has every single address and phone number of the staff, as well as a listing of their immediate families as well. He feels very accomplished all in all, and he can’t wait to see his mama’s pleased face.

It’s not long before Hunk strides back into the room, medicine for food sickness clutched in his meaty fists. “How are you holding up, buddy?” He asks, finally showing that he is actually a little bit concerned for Lance’s well being.

“Better now that you’re here.” He shoots off a weak wink, and Hunk snorts.

With his medicine down, and his eyes slowly getting heavier, Hunk start back up on that paper.

 

»»-------------¤-------------««

 

Lance doesn’t like Iverson and Iverson doesn’t like him, that much was clear from the very beginning. Any usual sympathy he felt for his targets were completely lost in the waves of contempt that arose between the two. First off, Lance would like to point out that he never did a damn thing to that man. Secondly, Iverson is around the unpleasant age of fifty two, and has no right to hound down on him, a sixteen year old teenager. It just wasn’t right, and coming from someone who had a very limited moral code that meant something. 

“Do it again.” The decrepit, repulsive fuckwad commands. He doesn't normally teach classes but today their math teacher was gone and they had no sub available. Lance looks at his copied answer on the board where he stands in front of the class, and looks back at his worksheet. He furrows his eyebrows.

“What did I do wrong, sir?” He inquires as respectfully as he can possibly manage. He’s really not in the mood to have an argument in the middle of a class full of about fifty kids. 

“You tell me, McClain.” The last name is said with a bite of venom, and Lance has dealt with nastier people in the business, but this man makes him want to put a bullet to his brain so bad he almost vibrates with the need to pull out an Automag. Instead running off to find a gu he grits his teeth and smiles as charmingly as he can manage with his bloodthirsty state of mind.

 “I’m afraid I don’t see where I went wrong, sir. Would you please show me?”

“Fucking idiot,” He hears Iverson mutter underneath his breath. Lance doesn’t let the comment get to him, because in due time the fucker will be sleeping with the dead. “You forgot-”

“He got it right.” A voice cuts through what was surely about to be a nasty little rant about whatever he forgot to do. Lance has to stop himself from flinching, because where he’s from if you interrupt an adult you get two lashes on the back. Just at the mere thought, the skin on his back tingles unpleasantly.

“Excuse me?” Iverson snaps, eyeing all of the students. “Who said that?”

“Me.”

Lance, along with several other students, is surprised when the infamous Keith Kogane stands up. Keith, who never speaks up in class. Keith, who stands up for nobody but himself. In that instant Lance feels the bloodlust drain from him as quick as it came, although it’s replaced with bewilderment. Iverson, however, looks to be mildly vexed. Lance snorts. Keith, who is also the golden child of the garrison. 

“That makes both of you wrong.” He barks out. 

“Or maybe you’re the one who got it wrong.” Keith challenges, looking nonchalant about the whole ordeal. Lance is pleased to find that the boy has far more balls than he had previously thought. Provoking Iverson while acting like it’s not a screwball thing to do? That takes some wild courage.

“Can’t help but agree with Mullet, sir.” Lance pipes up. He can’t keep silent and observe, because part of his persona is talkative and insertive. Just because Alejandro happens to be impressed doesn’t mean Lance can be easily shoved aside. “I even double checked all of my answers last night.”

 “Oh? So you’re both calling me stupid?” No one speaks. That is, until Lance opens his mouth on impulse. Well one would call it impulse and he'd later call it a lack of impulse control but everything is carefully planned. Plus, it's a little fun to build character to the blandness that is his persona.

“Nah, missing a problem ain’t stupid. You know what is stupid, sir?” A vein bulges from Iverson’s ugly forehead. The cuban lowers his voice in a stage whisper. “You jumping to assumptions." He pauses. "Sir."  

A couple of people gasp and a few giggle, but it’s easy to say that nothing is more gratifying than hearing the normally stoic Keith snort with amusement. Iverson looks positively scandalized, face caught somewhere between shock and anger. The man vaguely reminds Lance of an animal. Or maybe a grape, when observing the purple veins popping up in his forehead.

“Since you two find it so funny,” the man snarls out. An animal with rabies, perhaps, he thinks with disdain. “You’ll _both_ spend time after classes in here, picking gum off the bottoms of the tables and sorting through papers. How does that sound?” Keith twitches, but otherwise makes no move to show that he’s even slightly bothered about receiving detention.

Lance isn’t all that bothered either. It’s not like he has anything to do after class this week, because he’s still waiting to get information back from his broker. However, he’s got an image to keep. “What?” He whines, carrying out the a in an annoying manor. “You can’t give me detention for speaking my opinion! It goes against my rights as an american citizen.” He's not. His papers say otherwise though.

“No, but I can give you detention for being disrespectful towards a commanding officer.” Which is true, so he slumps off over to his desk and dramatically throws himself into his chair, making himself appear to be distressed. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Keith shoot him a look. A strange, completely out of place feeling bubbles up in the bits of his stomach at the twinkle in those violet eyes.

How odd. 

»»-------------¤-------------««

 

_“Mama?” Alejandro approaches his mother one morning. It’s his sixth birthday, an important day for a child in the Serrano family. It’s when training starts, and after much analyzation from Papa and Tio Santiago it was decided that he would be trained under Luis’ watchful eye. “Are we bad?”_

_The matriarch of the house pauses, her gloved hands hovering over dishes soaking in soapy water. Normally she’d get one of the housemaids to do it, but due to Alejandro’s birthday she decided to give them all a break to go off and visit families of their own. It was, after all, the nice thing to do. “Why do you ask such a question, Mijo?”_

_“I dunno. Some of the things Hermano said he was going to teach me seem bad.” Camila hums thoughtfully and resumes her dishwashing._  

_“We do what is necessary to survive and thrive. Does that really make us all that bad?” The child ponders on this for a second before shrugging._

_“Guess not.”_

 

»»-------------¤-------------««

 

Hunk is not happy with Lance, so he’s currently giving him the dreaded silent treatment. He’ll probably get over it when he gets back from serving detention with Keith. It’s not the first time he’s had detention, and this probably won’t be the last time either. One day, Hunk will accept this fact of life. Lance would prefer it sooner than later though, because he can’t stand having the normally loving and compassionate boy mad at him. 

Lance has met good people before. Lance has killed good people before. But never has Lance met a boy like Hunk before, someone who sparkles and shines with optimism and kindness. It’s something he’s never experienced before, and he comes to the conclusion that Hunk will be the hardest thing to leave behind once Iverson is dead.

Hunk doesn’t even wave him out as he exits the dorm and heads over to Iverson’s class. A tinge of disappointment pangs through his chest, though Lance couldn’t possibly understand why. He doesn't care about rejection, and if he did then he certainly wouldn’t have been qualified for the twenty six kills on his record. 

By the time he reaches the classroom Keith is already at work, idly sifting through papers and separating them. A paper shredder sits nearby, meaning information is likely being disposed of. With that thought in mind, he strolls over to the mullet clad boy. “Hey there.” he greets with a smile and slides into the seat next to him. “Whatcha working on?”

“Sorting.” The other grunts out in response. Lance rolls his eyes. 

“No duh. Whatcha sorting?” He tries again. Keith shrugs.

“Iverson just handed me a stack of papers and said to sort the passing grades from the failing.” So nothing incriminatingly personal, it would seem. It’s truly a bummer, because the most Lance has been able to find out is the man’s phone number and date of birth. It’s to be expected, really. The higher up you are the harder it is to collect information. Once Veronica transfers over to help him out it might be a tad bit easier to find out more information, but he doubts it. Not because he doesn’t have faith in his older sister’s ability, but because he’s just got a feeling that this is going to be an extremely drawn out experience. It already is.

“Sounds boring. Want any help? I’d rather be sorting through grades than scraping gum.” Keith glances at him, and then the stacks. Keith shrugs again, something that he seems to be quite fond of, and splits up one of the larger stacks to push over to Lance. Lance, in turn, grins at him. 

When it becomes obvious Keith isn’t going to say anything else, he starts on the papers. It’s easy to see that most of the grades are failing, probably due to Iverson’s inability to properly teach Algebra II. God, he misses his math teacher and hopes he'll be back soon. Lance was never one to properly get math anyways, usually having multiple tutors in the subject to help him understand it. It’s not because he’s stupid. He knows that he isn’t, it’s just that everyone has their weaknesses. That’s what Abuela would always tell him whenever he got embarrassed about the excessive tutors. 

“Oh, hey dude, this is yours!” Lance exclaims suddenly, waving Keith’s paper in the air. It sports a proud one hundred on it, and half of him wants to be jealous. “Woah, you’re friggin’ smart.” Keith glances over at him, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Not really. I’m better at Algebra than I am at Geometry.”

“I suck at both.” Lance sighs, and puts Keith’s paper in the stack of passing grades. “Math is the worst. I’m _way_ better at science.” 

“I’m alright at science, but I’m actually the best in English.” Aside from Intro to Aviation of course. Keith is apparently some flight prodigy, being trained by Takashi Shirogane himself. Shiro is the best of the best, and Lance would be lying if he said he didn’t admire him. It’s a shame that he’ll eventually have to gather more information on him, too. Potentially career ruining information on top of that.

“English? Never expected that.” Keith pauses and raises a thick eyebrow. Lance would love to get ahold of him and thread them. They’d look absolutely stunning if they were shaped up a bit more. Not that his eyebrows are bad now, but everyone could use a little extra work.

“What’s the supposed to mean?” He sounds almost defensive.

“I don’t mean that in a bad way!” he quickly reassures. “I meant like, I expected you to be really good in like, science too or something. You just don’t seem like the english type.” 

“Oh. I just really like reading and I guess that helps a lot in class.” This bit of information is useless. It won’t help him out in the slightest, but for some reason he clings to this little fact about Keith. He likes to read. Maybe he reads some of the stuff Lance likes? It’s a shame that asking would break the average, unstudious student trope he’s been working with. 

“Lucky! I suck at everything but Science.” Keith hums in response, and he supposes that’s the end of the conversation. They continue to work in silence, but this time it’s comfortable instead of sort of awkward. Lance is almost done with the pile when Keith speaks up, finally being the first to initiate contact.

“I could help.” Lance almost hadn’t realized the boy had spoken up again.

“Pardon?”

“I mean. I could like...help you with classes you’re struggling with if you’d like.” Is he offering to help tutor him? That’s oddly nice of him, actually. Lance flashes Keith a toothy smile.

“Oh dude, really? I’ll totally take you up on that offer!” The only class he actually needs any real help in is math, so he’ll just have to pretend with the others. This could also be a chance to learn more about Shiro, so really it might be a win/win type of situation. The only con here is being separated from Hunk, but he can handle it.

“Alright. Cool.” The talking stops again, but this time there’s a small smile on Keith’s face as they work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A side note, the romance itself probably won't be slow burn. When i added the slow burn tag, I meant the plot line and the actual development of Keith and Lance's romantic relationship. 
> 
> 3/31/19 Note: Again, unbeta'd and in need of one! Come hit me up over @ aclassythot on the toombler


	3. Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this was...a long time coming? I don't know why it took so long to get this chapter out and i'm SORRY. I went back and edited the first two chapters of this mess so maybe it's a lot better? I'm always open to criticism!

Students that are older than sixteen get to enjoy the privilege of leaving the campus as long as they’re back before 10 pm, which is the normal lights out anyways. This has helped Alejandro vastly in getting information to and from his broker. He has an hour before he has to meet Keith up at the local starbucks for tutoring lessons. Which, yeah, kind of a strange location but there’s delicious coffee and strong wifi so he can’t really complain.

The way his system with the broker works is an eye for an eye type of deal. Alejandro gives information and the broker gives him a new lead. The broker also sends the information back to Varadero for mama, Abuela, or Luis to examine. On top of that, once a month one of them sends a coded letter detailing their feelings on his progress. So far it’s all been pretty positive. He’s proud of himself.

The boy glances around at the dead empty parking lot just for assurance before swooping down by the tree’s roots and pulling out a brown, wrinkled envelope. It would have been difficult to find if he didn’t have trained eyes because it blended so well with the tree.

He can’t open it here, obviously, so he folds it up into squares and stuffs it into a pocket on the inside of his jacket. He turns and the steeple attached to the church catches his eyes. Alejandro has never believed in God before. Never will, probably, but he still feels a bit guilty. It’s not his fault churches are some of the most discreet places ever. Most are only used two times out of the week and nobody ever suspects wrong doings to go on in a holy place.

Alejandro smooths out his cream-white t-shirt and brushes the dirt off of his jean clad kneecaps all the while ignoring the shame that threatens to boil.

»»-------------¤-------------««

Keith is already there by the time he shuffles into the coffee shop. This Starbucks is smaller than the one across town yet somehow it still seems spacious. The witchcraft that is multi-billion dollar chain stores will forever elude him. The mullet clad boy in question is seated at a two seater next to the windows. He hasn’t noticed him yet. Most likely because he's too busy scrolling through his phone with a bored expression.

Also, it is to be noted that Lance has never seen Keith out of the standard Uniform. We all know how ugly that atrocity is so it comes to no great shock that the prodigy cleans up nicely. He looks worlds better in black band t-shirts and dark washed skinny jeans than he ever has in orange suits. Dare Lance say, he even looks amiable.

“Yo, Mullet.” Keith jumps, startled by the sudden noise.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Aww, why not?” He asks as he ambles over to the table. There’s a binder on the table that’s titled on a hand written label, ‘Algebra’. Lance has gotten into a fist fight with one of the most feared drug lords in Cuba (It’s a long story. Marco was pissing him off.) and yet nothing has stricken as hard as math has. If he had to do a fight to the death with math, math would win.

Lance really, really hates math.

“Because that’s not my name.” He slumps down into a chair and flashes a grin. It’s casual and certainly not anything obscene yet Keith...blushes. It’s only a little dash of pink and to anyone who wasn’t well versed in studying people it would have went unnoticed. This is, for a lack of better words, promising. Maybe he could see where this goes. Keith would be a great information source but he’s got so many walls up it’s a wonder he even offered to be a tutor.

Imagine what he knows, his brain screams at him. Takashi Shirogane might have a link to Iverson that most don’t. There is potential in that blush. An unspoken future that screams at him.

Almost too much potential, actually.

Lance has faked a relationship before. All job related but he’s still inclined to believe it counts. Of course both were aware that it was a facade plaid to lure the target into false comfort. There is something unmistakably real about getting with someone who’s unaware of the fact that it’s all an elaborate act.

“Ever heard of a nickname?”

Keith’s nose crinkles.

“Yeah. But that’s for people you’re...familiar with.”

“Mullet, Keith, Buddy, we spent two days in detention together! If that’s not intimate then I don’t know what is.” Lance kind of wants some coffee now. If he’s going to do a flirtatious banter type of ordeal then he needs immense amounts of energy.

“Hardly. It was more me scraping the gum while you hid in the corner and finished up papers.” He groaned about his freshly shaped nails for a total of thirty minutes before Keith snapped and took over the job. It was an ideal situation because whilst the other was under desks Lance was snooping around the file cabinets.

They were locked, naturely, but that’s why you always carry around a bobby pin and nail file.

In the end the most useful thing he found out was that the math teacher was having an affair with one of the pilot instructors. Spectacular blackmail material if you ask him.

“Hey, hey! I accomplished a ton! For example, a list of people to roast because damn! Those grades were God fucking awful.”

“What did you make again?” Keith retorts. Yeah, he bombed it, but that was on purpose. With his persona he’s gotta make slightly above the bare minimum in math. Had he actually taken the test properly he probably would have made at least a seventy.

“I- none of your beeswax! That’s what!” The older boy rolls his eyes and opens up the binder, revealing an entire page full of blank, handwritten equations.

“The Garrison worksheets suck so I made my own.” Lance blinks and stares at the written equations. Did he really make up an entire worksheet full of problem for the tutoring session? That must have taken a bit, plus he’d have to work out the problems on his own to find out the answers. This was an incredibly thoughtful and kind act. The infamous brooding Keith image has been forever shattered.

“All of this for me? And it’s only our first date!” There it is again, the slightly widened eyes and pink cheeks. A vulnerability that’s oh so easy to exploit.

“Enough procrastinating, Lance. Here,” He hands Lance a folded five dollar bill. “Go get us some coffee.”

He’s more than happy to oblige. Starbucks certainly isn’t Cortadito by any means but it works fine enough. As he’s standing at the register he notices in the corner of his eye Keith running a hand through his hair. You’d think it have been harder to get the lone wolf interested enough to be self conscious but surprisingly it didn’t take much at all.

This has turned out to be an interesting morning.

»»-------------¤-------------««

_Papa holds Alejandro in his arms. He is five at the time, tiny and observant. Their back porch faces the ocean and they watch the waves gently brush against the shore from the steps. It is peaceful, for once. Life can be hectic in their family._

_“Mijo, one day I won’t be able to protect you.” The boy is silent at first. Dried tears burn at his eyelids and the pulse of his split lip stings rhythmically. “Alejandro?”_

_“I know, papi.”_

»»-------------¤-------------««

Hunk’s not mad at him anymore. It doesn’t ever take him long to forgive Lance when he does something stupid and for that he is thankful. He’d die without the care boxes of food his dad sends over every week. Hunk’s papa cooks like he was made for it and Lance is glad to be able to testify to it.

Currently the big guy is taking a test in intro to engineering that’s going to last about four hours. It gives him time to look over the new information he’s been given. The boy sits at his desk, the papers sprawled out, and feels a little bit overwhelmed by it all. He can only imagine how his sister feels when she slaves over paperwork in between clients.  


The irony is not missed on him, either, as he reads the files provided. In underlined and bolded letters at the top of the document reads Adam R. Walker. Who happens to be Takashi Shirogane’s ex fiance. Lance scans what information the broker has on the instructor. Intelligent, easy going, and headstrong. He’s 25 and has served 6 years at the Garrison.

He’s also a New Yorker. The file notes that there is a possible correlation with the mafia, particularly in the selling of militaristic weapons to third person parties. It’s a bold accusation, one that needs a lot of evidence to back it up. This is going to take forever to unravel if his Broker’s whim is true. The only thing they’re going by at the moment is a letter stolen from the mail that has hidden language commonly used by mobsters in the Brooklyn area  


It could all be a coincidence. But then again, it could be something worth giving time to. He’ll consult with Veronica when she finally arrives sometime within the next month. In private, sadly, as they have to pretend they don’t know each other for the sake of secrecy.

On the subject of Keith, the tutoring session went good. It’s still too early to retain information out of it but Lance did manage to put the two on friendly terms. He even gave Keith his phone number (the one he uses for his ‘social’ life at the Garrison.) And, of course, he gave it with a wink to top it off.

Keith rolled his eyes. No blush that time, but his pupils did dilate.

That was a couple hours ago and Lance has had time to ponder over his situation. He wasn’t even sure about luring him into a relationship at first. However, now he’s certain it’d be beneficial to finding more about Shirogane, and in return more about Adam. So the relationship is certainly a go, if possible. There’s just the issue of initiating it. It’s obvious that Keith finds him physically attractive. Emotionally, he seems nonchalant about Lance’s personality, which, if we’re being honest, is normal Alejandro times a hundred. Maybe in a different world that could have been the reality. He doesn’t know how Keith handles relationships or if he’s ever even been in one.

Being attractive is not a problem. Being datable is. What does Keith look for in a boyfriend? Lance knows from personal experience that attraction does not equal love (or the teenage equivalent of love) and that you can find a person attractive but think they have a repulsive personality.

He hums thoughtfully and chews on the edge of a pen. Time for a strategy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not Beta'd! Positions are still open~ Come chat with me on la toombler @ aclassythot!


	4. CDs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still in desperate need of a beta!

Lance stares at the new entry in his notebook. It’s full of words written in a mix of Russian and German so that if it is found it isn't read easily. Many sentences have lines crossed through them and frustrated annotations written angrily in the margins. To make a long story short, Lance is at a complete loss on how to approach this. If he’s too direct, he’ll scare Keith off. If he’s not direct enough Keith will probably lose any interest he had before.

He sighs, stares a little bit longer and promptly rips the paper out of the notebook and crumples it into a ball. Useless. This is all useless and in the end he’s definitely going to resort to winging it. Let it be known that he _sucks_ at winging in it. His whole life has been planned down to the littlest bit, every piece of his life thought with great caution and care by his parents. He’s even to marry some girl when he’s twenty one to carry on the family name. Alejandro doesn’t just _wing_ it.

But, apparently, Lance does.

Hunk is still in testing and will be for another hour so he supposes now is a good time to go for a walk around campus and put on his best eavesdropping skills. Lingering around teacher lounges leads to some good gossip most of the time. It's almost like watching a soap opera play out. One thing is for sure, the teachers at this school are dramatic as hell. Lance can appreciate that. It makes his job much easier. He pushes away from the oak desk with a bit of force as he’s still feeling a bit put off and walks over to his bag to grab some things.

His social cellphone, a miniature sketchpad, and some headphones to make it seem like he’s not paying any attention. As he reaches for his phone, Lance notices a new notification from around thirty minutes ago. The number is unknown to him but a twinge of triumph makes him smile as he reads the name in the message.

_**(xxx)-xxx-xxxx: Hey. It’s Keith.** _

Well, that certainly didn’t take long. He reckons Keith is a lot like Rachel, having no need for preamble. At the thought of his twin, he is saddened a bit. Two years they’ve been separated, almost three, and he feels achingly alone without his other half. The small visits he gets with her are never enough. Not much he could do about it though. Those kind of decisions were never up to him and probably never will be.

Shaking such thoughts away, Lance replies in a more enthusiastic nature.

_**heyyy mullet!! whats poppin my dude** _

Should he still go out or wait for a response? There could be valuable information to listen in on but then again, the quicker he gets Keith to like him the quicker the chance of him finding out what his broker wants him to. This is like his first break through with Mexican mafia, only this time it's the Italian. There's no way he could ignore another probability of finding out more about this ordeal. The choice is easy. He chucks off his shoes, shimmies out of his pants, and slides into bed. Comfort is key, after all.

The response doesn’t take long to come through.

 **_Mullet Boy <3: Told you not to call me that._ **  
**_Mullet Boy <3: Also who says “what’s poppin”?_ **

**_me duh. it means how r u, for future referance_ **

**_Mullet Boy <3: *Reference._ **  
**_Mullet Boy <3: And I’m fine. How are those math problems?_ **

Lance glances over to his desk. The files have already been disposed of so all that’s left is his notebook and said math problems. That he has not done yet.

 _**stick in the mud!!** _  
_**They r gud :D** _

_**Mullet Boy <3: You haven’t even done them yet have you?** _

_**Nopenope! all in due time** _

There’s a lull in responses for a minute but he knows Keith’s read the message because the notification says that he has. Maybe Lance should have lied and said he did do them, if only to get more replies out of the other. First blunder and he’s only been at this for a day.

Oh well. At least these kind of blunders aren’t punishable like the business ones are. He loathes to remember the Reynolds assassination. It’s the only one he’s ever phenomenally fucked up and it best be the last. A repeat of his papa’s anger is not acceptable. 

His phone does ping again, surprisingly.

_**Mullet Boy <3: Do you need more help?** _

Lance furrows his eyebrows. 

_**maybeee** _

_**Mullet Boy <3: You can come over to my dorm if you want and I can help out some more.** _

_**Ooooooh???? ;)** _

_**Mullet Boy <3: Not like that!** _

_**lol i know! Omw!** _

The boy hops out of bed once again and throws his clothes back on before sauntering out of the dorm. There's a funny feeling twisting around in his stomach as he walks. It could probably be traced to his excitement for going through with this plan he has set up. It’s deceptive, manipulative, and just plain out _wrong_. He feels as if Abuelo would be proud of him and that accomplishment does not come easy.

It is then, halfway down the hall, that he comes to the halting realization that he actually doesn’t know Keith’s room number. Sheepishly, he fishes through his pockets for his phone and types out the question. Right as he’s about to press send the screen refreshes and another message pops up. It’s as if Keith had read his mind.

_**Mullet Boy <3: Room number is A13, by the way.** _

A13? Keith’s dorm is literally two doors down from his. How on earth had he not noticed earlier? It seems like he was far too focused on scoping out and examining every move the staff makes that he’d failed to notice the students around him. Stupid, stupid, stupid! When on a mission one needs a broad knowledge of his surroundings and he forgot that quickly, didn’t he? How foolish.

Well, It’s time to start paying more attention to his peers. No use in crying over spilled milk so long he cleans it up before it gets to mama.

»»-------------¤-------------««

Keith does not have a roommate. He never gets along with them and there is always trivial conflict. The school got so tired of it that they finally snapped and let him have a room to himself. The story seems incredibly fake but considering Keith’s grades and his connection to Shirogane it isn’t that surprising. Golden children get the golden treatment. That’s applicable everywhere, including his own family.

His room in question is actually really expressive. He half expected it to be bland and devoid of personality like Keith makes himself out to be but that isn't the case at all. Posters ranging from bands to anime line the walls and he’s got two bookshelves. One for actual books and comics and another for a gigantic CD collection. CDs died out _ages_ ago. From before his abuela was even born. To have some in this day and age is extremely impressive.

On a table next to the door there’s a stereo that looks kind of old. Possibly from around 2024 judging the exterior. Tia Juanita had a similar looking one that she adored dearly. Shame the family pawned it in punishment to her screwing up on a drug run. Keith is a lot like her in the sense that he's the human embodiment of someone who was meant to be born in a different generation. The posters are a testimony to this as well. Most are seemingly from the early 2000s era with only a few modern bands and shows sprinkled here and there.

The only dreary thing about his room is his desk, which is near and organized. The boy in question is seated at the desk with a nonchalant expression. He’s changed out of his jeans and into a pair of low riding sweats. His mullet is also thrown up in a ponytail, completing the casual vibe he’s playing right now.

A glance around his room says otherwise. Everything's is neat, everything. A faint smell of Lysol wipes indicates that the furniture has been wiped down. That most likely explains the lull in responses.

“Woah, killer room!” He acts oblivious. “This is fucking cool! I thought we weren’t allowed to hang posters?”

Keith shrugs. “They’re not hung up with tacs.”

“I see, I see,” He observes even more openly and sees a wooden box with a clear top on his night stand. “...Rocks?”

“Yeah.”

“...Why rocks?” Lance inspects the different shapes and colors with interest. There’s only about ten so it’s likely that this is a recent hobby of his. He’s not sure why he’s collecting this information about Keith. It’s not important. Maybe it’s because he’s trying to woo him. It’s the only logical explanation other than having a peculiar compulsion to simply know.

“I don’t know. They just look pretty.”

“Oh well! That’s fair enough.” His eyes linger on the collection for a moment longer before fully turning to face Keith. “So,” He carries out the O in a playful manner, “I’m going to be real with you my dude. I am so not in the mood for math.”

Keith raises a bushy eyebrow. Lord, he needs some tweezers. If they get close enough Lance has half a mind to pluck his eyebrows himself. “I don’t think anyone is ever in the mood for math.”

“Yuppers, exactly. So, I reckon instead of working through some more math problems we...uh...I don’t know, anything but math. We spent two hours doing math. That’s two hours too many!” Keith looks perplexed but not discouraging.

Actually it sort of looks like an idea has struck him.

“We could listen to my CDs.” Lance glances over to the bookshelf full of said CDs.

“You know I haven’t seen a CD in forever!” Which is true. Cuba may be behind most in technical field unrelated to medicine but they’re really not that far off. He takes a seat on the edge of Keith’s bed and caresses the fabric. Keith's comforter is a black quilt and It’s the softest thing he’s ever touched.  He quits to gesture towards the CDs. “Your collection, your pick.”

“Alright.” Keith gets up from his desk and walks over to the music. Lance has to hold back a snort at the red and blue mismatched socks the other is sporting on his feet. “What’s your favorite genre?”

Lance shrugs. “Whatever you like, buddy. I’m not picky in the slightest.” From the pinched expression on his face Lance comes to the conclusion that it’s the same for him. The pain of decision making. “Okay, let’s just pick at random.”

“Random?”

“Yeah just like, eenie meenie miney moe that shit.”

“...Okay.” He runs his index finger down the rows of case spines and mumbles the little chant under his breath slowly. He finishes the song and it lands on an album with a black label and a little marching person with a skeleton face. It’s kind of neat looking and most likely lands under the rock genre if he were to guess.

A sharp inhale from Keith as he pulls the CD out of it's place draws his eyes back to him and...woah. Lance is bemused at the almost excited look on the his face. “This is a good one.” Keith says, his voice an octave higher than normal and no longer monotonous. “A really good one.”

 

“Sweet! Pop it in!” Keith is more than happy to do so.

»»-------------¤-------------««

_Luis knocks on Alejandro’s door softly. He receives silence but chooses to walk in but that does not deter him. “Hermanito?” He calls out. The little boy in question is hidden underneath his plain covers. No noise peaks through but Luis knows his brother is awake._

_“Are you okay?”_

_There’s movement and then Alejandro’s little head is poking out. His expression is nonchalant, betraying absolutely nothing. It does not look natural on a six year old. Luis ambles over to his baby brother’s bed and sits down._

_“Did you do good?” Alejandro shrugs._

_Does murdering a person do any good? Technically he did do good. He did great, actually. Excelled all expectations by luring in a pedophile and slitting his throat like he was trained to do on pigs. Mama was more than impressed._

_“Well, I got you a gift to congratulate your success.” He perks up considerably at the mention of a present. He sits up and the blanket slips off of his shoulders. “Marco, get your ass in here!”_

_His other brother shuffles in with a gorgeous orange tinted guitar in his arms and a grin on his face._

_It’s the first time he ever falls in love with something._

**Music** _._

»»-------------¤-------------««

He slips into a slumber listening to music with Keith. When the music started playing he moved to sit on the floor with the other. They began to idly chat (it was more like Lance talked and Keith added comments when it was suitable) and eventually Lance’s position changed from sitting up to laying down on his back to shifting onto his side to look at Keith as he talked.

He doesn’t even remember falling asleep. Actually, he’s never just fallen asleep like that before. To let his guard down so much where he’s comfortable slipping away to dreamland in front of a practical stranger is dangerous. And the worst part about it is he isn’t even all that concerned about it. It’s different from earlier when he realized he wasn’t paying attention to his peers nearly enough.

He doesn’t know how. It just is. Besides, he sleeps near Hunk all the time. This isn’t bad. So why is his head screaming at him? His inner mama is dragging him out of his room by the ear and yet...He still doesn't care. 

He ended up waking up at half past midnight, the music cut off and a fluffy blanket thrown over him. The sound of light breathing echoes throughout the room. Lance looks around until his eyes land on a lump in the bed. A Keith shaped lump. He fights back a smile as he checks his phone for messages.

Ah, a slew of worried messages from Hunk take up most of the notifications on his screen. Lance sends off an apology and an explanation as to why he isn’t in the room before shutting the phone off again. The poor phone is almost dead, no point in having it kill itself. After doing so he looks up at the ceiling fan and begins to think. 

Lance has been doing that a lot lately. Thinking about the future. He pictures Iverson’s blood splattered on a wall. His Abuela’s satisfaction on the information he’s managed to get. His brother patting him on the back and handing him his position in the family hierarchy. Visiting Rachel again.

And then he pictures his betrothed's face. He hasn’t met her yet. Probably won’t until the wedding day. He finds himself for the first time wondering what she looks like. In his sleep ridden mind he envisions a girl with pale skin and dark hair. She’s beautiful, he thinks to himself about his vision of her. So beautiful. But Alejandro isn’t meant for beauty. He kills it. Everything he touches ends up dead.

These thoughts are not uncommon though so it’s easy to push them away. They don't matter to him and haven't for a long time. He must marry, breed, and carry on his line through his children. Not much to angst over really. In all actuality he should be thankful to his parents for organizing all of this for him. They do, after all, care about his well being and wish to see him succeed.

Suddenly he feel beyond mentally exhausted. The notion of going back to sleep is vastly welcomed. Upon snuggling into the blanket he’s been provided Lance decides that not only is going back to sleep a great idea but that it’s also one of the best he’s ever had in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again you can always come chat with me on tumblr @ aclassythot! and now on insta @ egirl_hanna~
> 
> Oh! And another thing! Should I include smut in this, have fade to black scenes where I post the smut separate, orr just skip the smut in general. Tell me your thoughts please!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! If you liked, please give kudos/comment! <3


	5. Office

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to do a thing where I update twice a week and see where it takes me. I spent a while on this chapter so I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Beta positions are still open!!

The morning after he unceremoniously fell asleep in Keith’s dorm was surprisingly pleasant. It being a Sunday they weren’t required to wake up at the ass crack of dawn for classes. Lance always woke up early though and apparently Keith did as well seeing as they both woke up around the same time. And, funnily enough, despite having slept on the hardwood floor Lance felt well rested.

That does not stop the initial panic of waking up in a room that’s still considered uncharted territory. Gods, he did not want a repeat of Germany. A spectacular thirteenth birthday that made. He sits up quickly and looks around frantically, his heart jumping and then settling when they catch sight of Keith on the bed to his right. The other hadn’t noticed his awaking yet, too absorbed on whatever’s on his phone.

“Hey.” Lance greets with a feigned yawn.

Keith looks up. His hair is, for a lack of nicer words, a rat’s nest. “Hi.” he responds with a small tilt to his lips. It looks foreign on his face. “You fell asleep and I didn’t want to wake you.”

He nods and scratches the back of his head only to recoil and cringe at the oily feeling of his hair. Yep, that’s a no go. Lance is going to have to get to the communal showers as fast as he can. “I see that.” Lance snorts and gets up onto his feet. Keith’s eyes follow him as he does so. “I had a lot of fun last night but I really, really need a shower before I die.” His routine was knocked off of balance and he didn’t even get the chance to put on a face mask. “My pores are clogged and my skin is dry. I think I might actually die.”

Keith seems to be understanding enough even if the tilt of his head shows some confusion. “Okay.”

Lance hopes he doesn't break out. Acne does not look good on him he thinks to himself as he bends down and picks up his phone. He has another message from Hunk but he pockets the phone before he reads it.

“Yeah so, I’ll see you later!” He shoots his friend a grin. Keith gives him a thumbs up but his eyes are trained on his phone. Lance wanders what’s got him so enraptured but he decides to let it go. Keith had told him last night that he likes reading the news so Lance would coin on it being that.

However, he feels the hairs stand on the back of his neck at being watched as he walks out of the door. Subtly, he glances over his shoulder and finds that Keith has an unreadable expression on his face.

»»-------------¤-------------««

After Hunk chewed him out and asked for a warning next time he decides to disappear the two share what can only be described as a wholesome hug. Alejandro has never, ever been hugged so fully and completely. Not even by the ever so affectionate Marco, who was a fan of impromptu side hugs and cheek kisses. He wants to freeze up and push away so, so bad but he doesn’t. Alejandro hates hugs, Lance loves them.

So he melts into the hug with many apologies until Hunk finally relents and lets go. He still has his giant hands clasped gently around his shoulder, keeps Lance inches away from him yet maintaining contact. Jesus, it feels like this guy is a giant teddy bear with abandonment issues and separation anxiety. Lance feels sorry for him.

“I just get so worried.” Hunk says with those puppy dog eyes of his. “You never up and disappear like that.” Well, he does. Hunk is always sleeping or busy when he sneaks is out.

“I know, I know.” He pats one of the hands. “It was a spur of the moment thing, I promise. I won’t leave you in the dark again.” Hunk looks him straight in the eye, deep blue meeting honey brown for a solid five seconds. Back at home, this is a challenge. He finds himself tensing, ready for a blow of some sort but it never comes. Instead, Hunk is letting go with a nod.

“I believe you.” The area his hands once cupped his shoulders tingle.

Lance cracks a broad smile. “Good! Now, isn’t to-” The intercom in their room buzzes. Each dorm has its own intercom so that the front offices can get in contact with people after classes quickly. Lance and Hunk’s intercom barely ever buzzes, being the perfect children they are.

“Will Lance McClain please report to Captain Shirogane’s office.” Lance pauses, feeling one hundred percent like a deer caught in headlights.

“Uh- sure. Where’s that again?” He calls out. Hunk is looking at him with wide eyes.

“Office 18. Thank you.” The buzzer clicks off and Lance is left with so many thoughts. He knew he’d wanted to talk to Shirogane soon but the plan was to do so through Keith. Why was this happening now? It’s not discipline related because if that were the case he would have been called to Iverson or the assistant headmistress.

“Dude...why does Shiro want to talk to you?” Lance shrugs his shoulders.

“Buddy if I knew the answer to that I wouldn’t be standing here like a fish outta water.”

“True. I don’t wanna keep you and have you miss a meeting with Shiro.” Hunk says his name like he’s some kind of celebrity. In fact, the big guy looks like a mix of excitement and jealousy balled up into one. Does his friend perhaps have a crush on him? Lance had pegged him a heterosexual, maybe even asexual, from the very beginning.  
“...Right. Wouldn’t wanna miss this for the world.” Not far from the truth, either. An impromptu call to the office of someone he’s starting to stake out? This is either a golden opportunity or a massive fuck up waiting to happen.

Lance grabs his student ID card and is off to the offices. He’d only been called up there a handful of times and has only managed to snoop around once. The offices are one of the most guarded places in the entire facility. There’s a camera in every corner, looking into the offices and staring out into the hallways. It was damn well near impossible to sneak around once and even then he’s almost certain it was a fluke.

When he finally does get to Office 18 he knocks with confidence. The heavy mahogany door opens up and there he is, Captain Shirogane in all of his glory. Normally the Garrison uniform looks like complete shit on everyone but this man manages to pull it off well. It’s like he was born to be in a uniform. Lance had only seen him once and that was during orientation. He was all the way in the back of the auditorium so he looked more like a grey blob than anything.

“Hi! You called me up here, sir?” The beam he’s greeted with is almost as warm as Hunk’s.

Lance is flabbergasted. That is not something easily achieved.

“Yes, yes I did. Lance, right?”

“That’ll be me, sir.”

“Marvelous, come in and have a seat please!” Lance blinks and then it comes to him. The man is excited about him. The same man who has a correlation to the person he’s trying to woo. This all, without a doubt, leads back to Keith. He doesn’t know rather or not to be amused, but he plays into the role of confused and anxious student well.

He walks into the office and takes a second to quickly scope his surroundings out. It’s basic as far as offices go. A spacious area of nothing but carpet leading up to two chairs sitting in front of an orderly desk, cabinets to the right of his desk with a coffee machine on top, and a control panel for his computer, which is shut off and out of sight. The thing that really stands out though is the pictures.

He’s got them on the walls and on his desk. Pictures of his family, of group photos with students, and of Keith are present everywhere. So, he’s sentimental. Nice. This is going to be one very interesting conversation to be had but it’s going to open so many doors for him. To say the very least, Lance is proud of how everything is turning out.

Without much more preamble he sits in one of the burgundy cushion chairs at the front of the desk. He plays with his fingers to appear nervous, eyes studying the perfectly shaped and manicured nails he sports. Instead of sitting at his desk, Shirogane walks over to the coffee machine and pulls out two mugs from the cupboard. He can’t see the smile on the other’s face but he can still sense it through body language.

“First off, you can call me Shiro and drop the sir for now. No need for formalities when it’s just the two of us having a friendly little chat, yeah?” He says as he puts a mug underneath the coffee dispenser.

“Oh! Sweet, okay. I can deal with not licking boots for a little while.”

“Great, same here!" He laughs. "So, Lance, tell me a little bit about yourself.” Lance glances over at him and makes a puzzled face.

“With all due respect, you never really did tell me why I was in here y’know?” Shiro waves that off.

“That’s not important right now. How do you like your coffee?”

“Nothing, I’m a plain jane. All for modesty and black coffee.” Shiro snorts.

“Works for me.” He picks up both now full cups of coffee and sets one in front of Lance before sitting in his own chair.

“Now, getting back on topic. What are your aspirations? Your dreams? Your talents?” Oh. This is getting better and better with each passing second. Shiro is scoping him out, meaning Keith has expressed enough interest in Lance to openly talk about it with his guardian. He feels like everything is being handed to him on a silver platter.

“Well if you’re that interested,” He smirks dashingly. “I want to be the best fighter pilot in this school! The kind that’ll blow your socks off.” His superior nods encouragingly, sipping his coffee. “And my dreams?” It’s time for Alejandro to think about something suitable for Lance. What would Lance want more than anything else? To give himself time to think he takes a sip of bitter coffee.

Bless the stars, he just wants strong coffee. This is definitely great value coffee, weak and bitter to the point of tasting like nasty water. Ah, wait. That’s perfect.

“My dream is to see the stars one day, sir.” A big dream for a big ego.

“The stars?” Shiro asks, a glint in his eyes.

“Yeah. Space my dude.”

“Admirable! Maybe one day you can. Anyways, talents?” Alejandro has lots of them. He’s a jack of all trades, one would say.

“Music. I love singing and playing the guitar.” Lance says.

“Acoustic? Electric?”

“Both.” The glint in Shiro’s eyes is a full out sparkle. Lance feels like he’s passed a test of some sort.

“Okay, one last question.”

“Yeah?” He sits down a now empty mug.

“What are your thoughts on Keith Kogane?” Lance acts like the question is off putting. He screws his eyebrows together and tilts his head.

“Who, Mullet?”

The other almost chokes on his own coffee. “Mullet?” Shiro blinks, wiping his mouth from the stray droplets that had slipped through in his shock. “Well that’s a new one.” There’s something almost defensive about his tone in spite of the jovial vibe he’s been emitting thus far. It’s almost like he’s prepared for the nickname to be something more malicious than what it really is.

Lance grins to ease the apprehension Shiro is hiding. “I say it with the utmost respect for his questionable hair style.”

The pilot chuckles and leans back in his chair. “He hates short hair.” Shiro speaks with fondness. “So! Opinions, opinions. What do you think about him as a person?” Shiro is being a bit too direct with this shovel talk, isn’t he. It’s obvious why he’s asking the questions. Painfully so.

“He’s…” Intuitive. Pugnacious. Reliable. Intelligent. Keith would make the perfect killer, the assassin inside of him muses. The perfect soldier. All he has to learn to do is control facial expressions. Perhaps there's a recruit somewhere in him. Yet at the thought of converting Keith into anything other than the socially awkward teenager he is puts Lance at edge for reasons unknown to him. “Really, really cool. And funny. And sweet! He’s a good friend man, and I say that from not really knowing him all that long.”

Shiro stares. Lance continues to ramble off positive traits he noted about Keith partially to get on Shiro's good side and partially to distract him from the weird series of thoughts he just had. “Oh, oh, and he’s witty! Very witty! That’s a word right? I definitely think that’s a word. I don’t see why he doesn’t have more friends. He’s great! Anywho, why’d you ask about him?”

Shiro continues to stare, an aghast look on his face.

Lance stare back.

Finally, he cracks another smile. “No reason, Lance. Enough small talk for now. There’s actually a different thing I’d like to discuss with you. Actually, It’s the real reason I called you into my office today.”

He was not expecting this. What other reason could Shiro possibly want to discuss with him aside from Keith.

“Sure! What did you want to talk about?”

“Iverson was supposed to tell you but...he had other matters to attend to.” The coward. One day, they shall know each other real well. “Seeing as you’re from a family of immigrants, you’re eligible to receive a waiver for…” Ah, it’s academic things to be discussed. The end of course exams usually cost a lot of money, and you need them to be able to pass to the next semester at the Garrison. It’s a ploy to make more money off of students. Lance had almost forgotten he’d signed a request form to get a waiver for said test.

Not many qualified for it. Lucky him, he supposes. The rest of the conversation drags on as they talk about papers and such that need to be signed. He is immensely thankful that this talk was not to be had with Iverson. Imagine what horror that would have been. In the end, before Lance leaves, Shiro shakes his hand firmly.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Lance.” Something burns within the other’s expressive eyes.

“Likewise.”

»»-------------¤-------------««

_Alejandro jabs the needle through his skin easily. Sometimes you get attacked during missions and then sometimes your older sister wants to be a twat and shove you off the roof of the house. When stuff happens between family that’s not all that serious you take care of yourself. This is not the first time he’s literally had to stitch himself up and it certainly won’t be the last._

_However, alone in the bathroom attached to his bedroom, he yearns for companionship. The twelve year old thinks back to the only friend he’d ever made and how he found out too much. It was the first time Alejandro ever killed outside of a contract and he felt sick to his stomach when he laced his friend’s tea with ricin._

_He didn’t want to do it. Even resorted to begging his mama to listen to his pleas. They fell on deaf ears._

_The families secrets must be protected no matter what. It doesn’t matter if children die._

»»-------------¤-------------««

When Lance walks back into the dorm after his meeting with Shiro Hunk is immediately at the door. “Junk food money came in!” He exclaims happily, waving an envelope in Lance’s face. Every week Hunk’s auntie sends in forty bucks to buy cheap junk food to gorge themselves on. They always go to the savings store as soon as possible when they receive their beloved money.

“Nice!” Lance grins. “You wanna hear about the boring ass meeting I had to sit through while we go to the store?”

“Bro, of course I do!” And so they make their way to the Garrison bus stop, gossiping and chatting pleasantly.

It almost feels real, like this is something Lance has grown up with and has always been surrounded with. In the end, It’s pretend. Lance has to remind himself this when he makes up stories about a childhood that never happened and past friends that never existed. Everything he speaks is a string contributing to an intricate web of lies that can never be a reality.

Does he care?

Not really. None of this will matter when Iverson is dead.

The bus ride is just as nice, and so is the walk through the grocery store. That is, until Hunk bumps into a tiny girl. Something that is to be known about Hunk? He is giant. A behemoth amongst men but gentler than a breeze on a calm summer afternoon. The fellow would never just intentionally knock over a chick to be spiteful.

She doesn’t know that though. The girl in question is petite and kissed with an endless amount of freckles. She also has annoyingly bright orange hair that’s thrown up into a ponytail. Nothing else is particularly noteworthy about her other than the potty mouth she sports with pride.

One second Hunk is carrying all of their junk food in an arm basket listening to Lance ramble about a cousin twice removed and then the next they’re getting cursed out in the middle of the candy isle by this ginger gremlin.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She hisses, jumping back up to her feet before Hunk can even drop the basket to help her up. “You got a fucking problem, huh?” Hunk stammers, Lance stifles a laugh. She whips her head to shoot him a nasty look.

“You got a problem too douchewad?” Lance snorts at the insult she decided to use.

“Nah, I just know you’re scandalizing my buddy here. Look at him! You’ve traumatized the poor thing. ” He casually sticks his hands in his pocket.

“Lance!” Hunk hisses. “Listen, I am so sorry about this, I honestly didn’t mean to knock you over!”

The girl continues to practically steam, freckled face glowing red from indignation. Lance needs to get her to cool it fast before an actual scene is caused and their all thrown out. “If you forget it, we’ll buy you any food of your choice.” Hunk nods along with him, eager to have to tension disappear.

It’s her turn to snort. “Bribing me into silence?” The spitfire anger is gone and is replaced with vague annoyance but interest in the proposition. Huh, talk about anger issues. Where does such a tiny girl find the space to store all the vehemency.

“You could say that. Deal or no deal, my friend.” She contemplates it for a moment before nodding.

“Deal. I’m Katie by the way.” Lance smiles at her.

“I’m Lance and this,” He gestures at the still embarrassed Hunk. “is Hunky!”

“Hi.” His friend says meekly. “Sorry again.”

“No fucking worries. Food solves everything.” And, well, Lance can’t argue with that logic so long as they’re not making public scenes.

What an odd girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can pry the headcanon that Shiro was a goofy person pre-kerberos from my cold dead hands 
> 
> also sorry for the lack of Keith this chapter khdsds
> 
> come scream with me on tumblr @ aclassythot!


	6. Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going ahead and updating today instead of tomorrow because I won't be available! 
> 
> TW: Implications of self harm in a flashback!

The next time he sees Keith is in Algebra II the next morning. The ordeal with Katie the night before actually ended with her and Hunk exchanging contact information after the two found out their academic interests were incredibly similar. Lance is grateful for this because yeah, he likes the dude, but his clinginess and paternal nature makes his job so hard sometimes.

The tanned boy in question wakes up in an exceptionally good mood this morning so he walks into class with a bounce and strolls over to where Keith was seated before the bell rings. “So, Captain Shirogane seems nice.” He says with a friendly tease and welcoming beam. For the very first time Keith openly blushes from head to toe. It’s a far cry from his usual subtle tint to the cheeks.

“Oh my God I am so sorry about that.” The boy groans and then props his elbows up on his desk, burying his face in his hands. “He is so, so nosy.” Lance laughs at this reaction.

“It’s no worries Mullet! I thought it was fucking hilarious.”

“Lance, please.” He actually sounds quite mortified with the whole situation and Lance has the decency to back off. He knows what it’s like to have nosy family, even if the circumstances are rather different from Keith’s.

“Aw, I’m sorry.” On an impulse he reaches down and pats Keith’s head like Marco used to do when he was a little boy. To Lance’s astonishment the other’s hair is feather soft. From an initial glance he’d assumed it to be thick and rough to the hand.

He wants to braid it.

Upon being touched Keith stills completely. For a moment Lance thinks he’s made a grave mistake because the tension in the other’s back is like a coil that’s ready to snap. And then he goes slack, peeking through the cracks between his fingers.

“Not your fault.” He mumbles, shellshocked. Lance clicks his tongue and removes his hand. Keith’s finger twitches but other than that he doesn’t acknowledge anything that just happened.

“I totally enabled him dude. If it makes you feel better we didn’t say anything mean about you.”

Keith Scoffs.

“Yeah, that makes me feel great.” He’s not blushing quite as ferociously anymore and now it’s easy to pass his flushed skin as anger. Lance knows better though. He opens his mouth to respond but the instructor pushes through the doors and motions for everyone to return to their seats. Thank God Mr. Greaves is back and Iverson or a sub isn’t forced to take over the lecture any longer.

Lance gives Keith a mock solute, to which Keith responds with an eyeroll, and heads to his own seat. The lecture begins and he zones out at the southern drawl of their teacher.

He wanders what Shiro told Keith about their interaction. Whatever it was you won’t catch him complaining. So far this plan to get Keith in a relationship with him has gone off without a hitch. He’s only known Keith for a little over a week and it already feels like he has him wrapped around his finger.

Alejandro is almost giddy with accomplishment and pride. However, he cannot afford to get distracted from the mission. He was preoccupied this entire weekend with Keith and the Broker will not be pleased if he comes up empty handed the next time he reports to them. All he needs to do is reschedule his daily life to fit in Keith and everything will be perfect. Stone cold Veronica might even be impressed with him, who knows?

He looks up, catches Keith’s eye, and smiles softly. Keith doesn’t do anything except run a gloved hand through his hair and avert his eyes back to Mr. Greaves.

»»-------------¤-------------««

_Death tastes bitter._

_Death tastes familiar._

_Death tastes like home._

_Staring out past the ravine, Alejandro ponders. The gun in his lap is heavy and he strokes the fine metal with reverence. Death is all he is._

_Rachel comes to sit next to him. She had to come with him this time. It was her trial run, mama had told them. They were still trying to find a place for Rachel in the business. The job was simple, really. Lure in one of the people that owe money to the family and make an example of them._

_She did the job flawlessly, as is expected from a child of the matriarch. On textbook nothing went wrong. She got him to follow her to the outskirts of town with a sob story and then sliced his neck open. She did amazing, Alejandro had thought as he observed. Surely she’s just as fit as him to take on contracts._

_He was a fool to think so._

_Alejandro finally turns to her, a person with his eyes and his nose and his mouth. A person who’d been there from conception to birth to childhood who was the spitting image of him._

_A person who had never had the heart to kill._

_Fate is cruel, he thinks, examining the dried blood on her face and the wild look in her ocean blue eyes. He thinks back to the days where she liked to play pretend, making up games with him and pulling them out to last for days on end. One time, they were zombies. Another time, cowboys. She was so creative and full of life and vibrancy. Almost gregarious in nature._

_He tries to find that girl in the preteen that sits brokenly beside him. Looks deep into her eyes for life that was once soul consuming._

_There is none. The wild look simmers down into one that is hollow._

_“I don’t want to do this.” She whispered hoarsely._

_“I know.” He responds with nonchalance._

_Rachel was never meant for this life._

»»-------------¤-------------««

On tuesdays the class does flight simulations in Intro to Aviation. Lance had never really cared about flying before but he would be lying if he said it didn’t give him an adrenaline rush. Even if it is fake, the simulation makes it seem so real that he can practically feel the pressure of the air against the tip of his nonexistent fighter jet. It peaks an actual interest to learn how to fly inside of him.

“This is flight log 1-22-13,” Lance says into the headgear. “Conditions are looking fantastic and the route ahead is clear. We will be making contact ASAP.” Hunk isn’t with him this time and instead it’s a shy girl named Naomi who definitely has a crush on him.

“G-got it.” She stutters, “are w-we clear for landing?”

“Yes ma’am, we are!” She makes a choked noise before flipping a few switches and pressing a button. A hissing sound echoes throughout the cockpit and there’s a bit of turbulence that shakes the simulator. Carefully, he scans the planet terrain below him and finds a clearing before guiding the jet downwards gently.

It lands smoothly and the window flashes green. He grins at the success and whoops. The other person in the pit, James, rolls his eyes. He never really did like Lance and Lance never did really care. Aside from Hunk and Keith he has no reason to care about approval unless it leads way to information that was otherwise unobtainable.

He walks out of the simulator with a smug look on his face. His flight instructor is standing in the middle of the student line up and doesn’t make a comment about his flying like she normally would. Instead, she looks a bit peeved. Seeing who’s standing next to her he can sort of understand.

Adam. He looks casual and friendly enough but Lance regards him with veiled suspicion. There’s a high possibility that this man is just like him, evil and conniving. He knows better than to trust on the basis of appearances alone.

Keith, who is standing off to the far right, looks a tad bit uncomfortable with having Adam around. Hunk is trying to get his attention from the far left and everyone else is just sort of staring at him. There’s something sort of frantic about the way his friend is mouthing words and Lance tries his best to read his lips.

He. Want. Class. That’s all he can make out.

“Instructor Walker would like a word with you, McClain.” Lance snaps his eyes back to the instructor and Adam.

“Alright, sure.” Adam smiles and motions for him to follow his lead as he walks out of simulation room’s doors. Lance trails along behind him in the hallways before Adam is turning to face him. Up close, he looks even more amiable. Bright eyes and a nice smile. He looks welcoming and kind.

It is a lie. Probably.

“I saw how you flew that simulator, Lance. It was marvelous! You’re a natural at it.” Lance blinks.

“Oh uh, thank you sir.” He doesn’t know how to respond. Why pull him out of class just to compliment his piloting skills?

“You’re welcome! Anyways, I talked to Iverson and we’ve made the mutual decision to have you transferred over to my class.” Lance blanches. What the fuck.

“So late into the semester?” He asks with apprehension. Adam nods. “Why?”

“My own students are just starting the simulators and need more than just me for instructions. I put in a request for a parapro but they never did get back to me. So we’re having you transferred over instead.” It makes sense but doesn’t all at the same time.

Instead of questioning it like he wants to he drops the flabbergasted expression. “Oh! Neat! Okay, sounds like a plan to me sir. I can’t wait!”

After that there’s not much else to say. Adam sends him back to class with a pat on the back and tells him he’ll be transferring officially next week. His current class has moved from the simulation room to Iverson’s classroom so when he gets back he’s not surprised to see Hunk standing at his desk. He is, however, surprised to see Keith.

The two are chatting and Mullet looks to be relaxed in the presence of Hunk. The big guy has a habit of doing that to even the toughest of people. He wanders what Hunk would be like in the business. Certainly not a killer like himself, nor an intel gatherer. He’s too soft to hurt and too nosy and bad at keeping secrets to collect information.

Perhaps a diplomat. Even the Serrano family has a few of those in the rare instances they don’t want to bother with violence and manipulation. He looks at him and imagines Hunk in the midst of a gang war, calm and beaming as he talks the issue out with the leader. It’s comical but fitting in a morbid way.

The two notice him and Hunk is the first to spring to action.

“What is with you and teachers wanting to get on your good side lately?” He asks, jabbing a finger at Lance’s chest.

He grins sheepishly.

“You know, truth be told, I’m really not sure.”

“What was the conversation about?” Keith steps in with crossed arms and a scowl. Obviously Mullet is no fan of Adam at the moment. For some reason Lance finds it to be completely warranted and he doesn’t even know the details to Shiro and Adam’s break up.  
From what he can tell it was not pretty or mutual in the slightest bit

“Eh apparently I’m getting transferred over to Captain Walker’s class next week.” Hunk gasps, Keith chokes on air.

“What?” They both exclaimed in unison.

“Yeah my dudes, I didn’t really even know this was happening like. At all. Kinda weird you know?”

“Very.” Keith agrees with an agitated look. Hunk nods as well.

“But like, why?” The hefty boy questions. He’d like to know the real reasoning as well.

 

“Your guess is as good as mine, buddy.” Lance shrugs.

 

»»-------------¤-------------««

 

_Alejandro brushes Rachel’s thick hair, combing his long fingers through the tangled strands. She’s seated at her vanity, applying light makeup to hide the bruise underneath her eye. They chat off and on but mostly it’s quiet._

_“I’m leaving soon.” She says as she dabs on the foundation. “They’re sending me to Havana.” He pauses. Alejandro knows what Havana means._

_“But you’re fourteen.” He breathes out. The boy sets down the brush._

_“So are you.”_

_“Yes but...but my job is way different than…”_

_“Sleeping with people?” Rachel stares at him through the mirror. He nods._

_“Not really. We are both far from innocent.” He wishes this weren’t the case for her. Still, the thought of grown men touching his sister...he shudders._

_“There’s nothing else you can do?”_

_“Leo, there’s nowhere else for me.”_

_“But-”_

_“It’s just how it’s going to be for now on okay?” She snaps, mouth twisted into a snarl. There is no going back from this._

_He wants to argue. He wants to beg her to stay. He wants to speak his thoughts._

_He doesn’t._

_“I see.”_

_It’s the last time he saw her for six months. By the time they finally met again she was not the same as she once was._

»»-------------¤-------------««

 

It had been awhile since Lance received a letter from the family but he was always happy when he did. They usually always contained an abundance of praise for his good work and even with updates about everyone. A tad bit of normalcy in an abnormal family was more than enough to sedate and help him push through the day. It made Alejandro believe that they really did miss him. He was the baby, after all, and admittedly the most spoiled out of the five of them even if he was disciplined just as thoroughly. He flourished under the attention.

So when he checks his mail and comes to find the letter he is ecstatic. He snatches it out of the tiny compartment and rushes back to his dorm as fast as his long legs can take him. When he bursts through the doors Hunk yelps and looks up from the floor with trepidation. Beside him sits Katie dressed up in a too big Garrison uniform. In her hands she holds a creased paper. Surrounding them is an abundance of metal parts and tiny screws.

Looks like Hunk took apart the blender again but this time with the allegiance of Katie. Who doesn’t attend school at the Garrison.

Wait, that’s not the dorm blender.

“Jesus Christ on a friggin’ stick Lance!” He hisses.

“Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your little date here.” He apologises as he’s hopping up onto his bed. He decides to ignore the mysterious blender for now. He’s got other matters to worry about at the moment.

Hunk sputters and Katie cackles before slapping her partner in crime on the arm.

“Enough fucking around, let’s get back to work.” Hunk grumbles a bit but obliges easily, picking up a discarded screwdriver and getting right back to it.

They’re nothing but background noise as he rips the envelope as neatly as possible. He pulls the paper out and sees that not much is written. The boy frowns a bit. Usually there’s about two pages included. He reads the letter and excitement turns to horror. It feels like his eyes have deceived him as he reads again. And again. And again.

 **Lance** , the letter started off.

**Your papi and I are very pleased with your grades! The neighbors dog Raven got out and they haven’t been able to find her. The poor thing! She must be so cold and lonely. We’ve been out looking ourselves but haven’t seen her. We’re going to tell the neighbors immediately if we catch her or find out where she’s at. Bless, I hate when God’s creatures are left alone my son. Who knows what could happen to them out there all by themselves.**

**Oh! You remember that girl in town? The super skinny one with those round glasses? She got a scholarship to Paris! I’m so happy for her.**

**Write back whenever you can,**   
**Mama**

The thing about their code is to even the trained eye it seems like nothing but a domestic conversation. He can pick out details though. “Pleased with grades” means they’re content with his progress. The least important thing about the message itself is the knowledge that Veronica has a new contract in Paris but that’s static right now.

“Raven” is what they call his twin. It means Rachel is gone. She’s missing.

And they’re looking for her. Oh Gods. She’s deserted them and when they track her down it’s not going to be good. Alejandro’s stomach flips around. He feels like throwing up. She will be tortured. She will be killed. There’s no if ands or buts about it. The moment Rachel made the decision to run is the moment she’s not apart of the family anymore and they’re going to throw caution to the wind.

With the things that Rachel knows? There’s no way they’ll let her go or show any sympathy. But it could all be a misunderstanding. It has to be. There is no way in hell Rachel is being this stupid. On top of that, Rachel loves the family. She herself was devoted enough to take charge of an entire sect so young.

Maybe one of the clients took her. She’s trained like he is but there’s always a chance of being overwhelmed. In the bedroom it’s hard to be fully prepared and defended. His mind is raking for all these possible explanations and it’s making him feel sick with worry.

She couldn’t have run. It’s the ultimate betrayal to not only mama and papa, but him as well. She’d never hurt him like that. Rachel isn’t like him, she’s not a monster. Nor is she selfish or suicidal for what he knows.

 

»»-------------¤-------------««

_“What are you doing?” He asks. She doesn’t make any movements as she stares at the blood trickling from her wrists. There’s something about her that’s melancholic._

_“Building up a pain tolerance.”_

_“Oh.” He’s understanding. “Is mama making you do it?”_

_Ocean blue orbs turn even more cold than before. “Something like that.”_

»»-------------¤-------------««

He blinks at the memory.

Oh. 

»»-------------¤-------------««

_“Do you ever feel like you’re floating away?” She asks._

_“Yes.”_

_“When?”_

_When there’s other people’s blood on his hands. When he pulls the trigger from a rooftop. When he slips in poison in an unattended drink. When he takes the edge of a knife to a bastard’s throat._

_Alejandro shrugs._

»»-------------¤-------------««

Something inside of him breaks and repairs itself much stronger than before. It’s like he’s losing something precious, or maybe more like watching a valuable item slip and fall into the ocean, never to be seen again.

Hunk and Katie continue to work on their project, laughing and teasing each other as Alejandro crumbles on the bed.

I’m leaving soon, she had said at the vanity with a far away look.

I’m leaving soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a Beta position is open uwu I promise I don't bite lol


	7. Movie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another early update! Whoop whoop!
> 
> Chapter dedicated to WhippersnatchSnugglesnatch! Happy birthday my friend~

As angry and upset as Alejandro is Lance has to stay remain unaffected. To let this disrupt his everyday life at the Galaxy Garrison would be a mockery on everything Luis and Mama has ever taught him. Unlike Rachel, he can’t just blatantly disrespect everything he’s ever come to understand about life. He used to know her like the back of his own hand but those days have obviously changed. They hadn’t even lived together in over two years.

Rachel is a stranger. She’s been one ever since they moved her to fucking Havana. Cienfuegos would have been better. Shit, Camaguey and the hell hole that is it’s politics would have good too. Havana was a place that changed people like them with it’s talks of peace and independence. It completely warped their mindsets. Tia Lola was sent to Havana and she deserted. Prima Lucia followed in suite. And now it’s his own sister.

Havana was a mistake. Separating them was a mistake. Now there’s nothing he can do. Alejandro might’ve been able to talk reason in her, get her to see how fucking ridiculous she’s being. Anger boils at the surface of his skin. He’s about ready to explode. Alejandro itches for a release and now he’s wishing Garrison Juniors had access to the shooting range. He’s ready to blow the head off of a dummy.

“So, Lance,” Keith starts. He snaps out of his inner turmoil. The two of them are in Keith’s dorm again discussing the upcoming spring exams. There was a lull in conversation when a message popped up on Keith’s phone and he practically dived to answer it. That’s what lead to Lance’s mind wondering to darker places.

It’s been a week and he still can’t quite wrap his head around the letter. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to comprehend it. He knows that she ran and he’s mad about it but another side of him wants it to be a misunderstanding. It’s the child in him that he never managed to shake off and he hates it.

“Yeah?” He replies, looking up from where he was supposedly reading over the study requirements for American Literature. Keith’s sitting atop of his bed, chemistry book sitting on his lap faced down. He’s not wearing his gloves for once, his posture is proper, and his hair is neat. What really sets the mood though is the determination set in his jaw.

He looks like a man on a mission.

“The new MechaBot movie is coming out tomorrow.”

Lance blinks before grinning. He’s totally about to get asked out.

“Oh dude, I know! I’m so pumped! No matter how many reboots they give it the shit never gets old.” Keith smiles at his enthusiasm. Keith’s smile is subtle but just as powerful as a signature Hunk beam. He wears happiness well but it’s also kind of stiff. Sorta like a coat that hasn’t been worn enough yet or shoes not yet broken in.

“Well…” He trails off, scrunches up his eyebrows in a manner that reeks of self consciousness. Lance waits patiently for him to continue. “I wanted to know if you...you and Hunk would like to go see it with me?”

“Tomorrow?” He asks without a beat of hesitation.

“Yeah.”

“I know I’m free but Hunk’s always doing something. I’ll ask him for sure though!” Keith fiddles with his fingers for a second.

“So you’re for sure going?”

“Hell yeah!”

Mama would not approve. She’d call it lollygagging, seeking meaningless entertainment that does nothing to benefit himself or his task. Usually he would agree but this is still an opportunity to get closer. Adam and Shiro are right within his grasp and he knows for a fact it’s because of his friendship with Keith. It’s not like Rachel, he thinks with vehemence. He would never abandon the family. Never.

Surely they would be accepting of the circumstances even if they were disapproving.

It makes him think. He wonders if perhaps he’s being monitored more closely than before. He doesn’t blame mama if that is the case but...his skin crawls. Alejandro has never liked being watched by anyone. Ever. But if mama is doubling up on surveillance after Rachel’s escape he’ll simply bite his tongue.

“Cool.” Keith drags him back to reality. The other’s lips are lifted into a magnificent, blinding smile that’s a reflection of relief and unadulterated glee.

Lance twitches.

“Can’t wait til then.” He breathes out. The air around them is suddenly thicker with something that’s indescribable. He keeps on going as if he doesn’t notice it but Keith certainly does if the dilated pupils are anything to go by.

“Same here.”

 

»»-------------¤-------------««

 

Right now the gossip mill is quiet. Sometimes it gets like this and usually he considers it to be bothersome. However, he’s starting to feel thankful for the interlude in information. It gives him the rare chance to sit down and think over his current situation. The lack of things happening is also helping alleviate the guilt he’s feeling by skipping out a nightly outing to go see a movie about giant robots.

That being said, just because the staff gossip mill is closed down doesn’t mean the student one isn’t buzzing. Ever since he decided to pay more attention to his peers the more entertained he’s been. Sure, learning that the math teacher is cheating on his wife is fun but it gets old. Mainly because it’s always a redundant plotline. Lonely teacher that works late hours and doesn't get paid enough is frustrated. Conveniently, the teacher across the hall is suffering the same thing. Commence a steamy make out in the teacher workroom and the rest is history.

With students it’s almost always a different story. Timothy cheated on Rebecca with Keisha because her nose was too big. Jeff got caught blowing Mikey by Mikey’s girlfriend, Paige, because he was bored of, in his words, “smashing pussy”. Leiliana framed Krem cheating on Miley because she thought it’d be funny. It’s all so fascinating, watching these teenagers go wild now that the only supervision they get is from teachers who don’t even care all that much.

The most wild part about the student run grapevine though is the intricacy of it. There’s even a hierarchy of students ranked by popularity and scandals. He’d expect something different from a group of kids being trained for the military. Not for the first time Lance finds himself incredibly impressed. The rumor structure is so closely mirrored to that of politics one would deal with on the streets that he’s pretty sure he can make some use from it.

To do that he’d have to climb his way to the top of the social dynamic but avoid anything that would turn Keith away. It’s tricky but not impossible. In every group of politicians there’s always one that’s managed to escape scandal. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. It’s only an idea though. He’s not entirely sure if there is a benefit to all the effort like he is with Keith.

The leader of the mill is a girl named Kennedy Brown. She seems like one of those movie characters Gran Bisabuela enjoyed way back in the early 2000s. Blonde hair, blue eyes, prissy attitude. It’s one huge stereotype that she fits into way too comfortably. It almost feels like it’s on purpose, the way she flips her hair when she walks by anyone she deems to be attractive and sneers at people that are quote un quote beneath her. The way she holds herself is quite frankly embarrassing for her and the people around her.

Kennedy has taken a liking to Keith. He knows this because he overheard her gushing over his ‘mysteriousness.’ in study hall. She claimed he was like a dark prince that was waiting for someone to come along and give him a happy ending. He’s very inclined to disagree. The only dark thing about him is his onyx colored hair and some of his music tastes. Other than that, the guy is more like an aloof Labrador than an angsty prince charming with a dark past.

“He can’t be happy.” She said. Her friends are quick to nod in agreement. “Have you seen the way he’s always frowning? Clearly something must be weighing down his mind.” The small frown is just his resting face, Lance wants to say. He turns the page of his assigned novel but continues to listen in on the conversation.

“And the way he glares at people! So angry.” Dilan chimes in, her last two words accentuated with a coo. Keith glares on accident. He told him that a few days ago when they were walking to Mr. Greaves’ classroom. Someone had bumped into him and they cowered away when they went to apologize. Lance almost wants to teach him how to control his facial expressions just so he doesn’t experience that put off expression on Keith’s face ever again.

“Does he even have any friends?” Another girl, Macy, questions.

“I don’t know,” Kennedy shrugs. Lance looks up at the prickle of eyes on his skin and catches her staring at him from the table in front of him. She smiles a cheshire cat smile and he notes that there’s red lipstick on her teeth. Nobody is going to tell her about that he supposes. “Wait...yes I do.”

Dilan and Macy are quick to ask her who. Lance and Kennedy keep eye contact.

“That boy over there, didn’t you know?” They both whip their heads around and stare at him too. Lance waves his hand awkwardly.

“...Hello?” He says, his book still open.

“Your friends with Keith Kogone?” Kogane, he wants to correct. Dilan’s words are full of disbelief.

“Oh!” Macy gasps with realization. “They are! I saw them at the Starbucks three weeks ago.”

“And they’re always hanging out after class.” Kennedy points out.

“Well I mean, yeah. He’s my buddy. Why do you ask?” They ignore his question

“How did he even become friends with you of all people?” Lance frowns at Dilan.

“What’s the supposed to mean?” He asks with indignity.

“It means that you’re you.” Macy speaks with a malicious smirk. “Loud and stupid and he’s him! Quiet, intelligent, and oh so dashing and mysterious.” She purrs.

He sighs loudly before ignoring them and going back to his book. Spanish, German, Russian, Mandarin, French, English, and a little bit of Italian and yet he can’t find the right words to describe how much he detests these girls. Would they feel the same if they knew he was a world class assassin? Would they mock his intelligence if they knew that he could find over a hundred ways to kill them with his bare hands? Alejandro is at the end of his rope and desperately wants to snap.

“Hey, hey, don’t ignore us!” Kennedy squeaks. The sound of chairs moving and the feeling of his own table shaking slightly at the three asses now atop of it make him groan inwardly. He peaks up from his book again.

“We just want to know more about Keith!”

“Then ask Keith yourself.”

“But you’re friends with him and you’re right here. What’s the point of finding him?”

He ignores them.

“Listen, just give us his number or something and we’ll leave you alone.”

He continues to ignore them.

“Hey, Pedro, come on.” Macy whines. Lance pauses and raises an eyebrow.

“...Pedro?”

“That’s your name isn’t it?”

“No? The fuck? It’s Lance.” She, along with everyone else at the table, blinks.

“I thought you were Mexican?”

“I am.”

“Then why is your name so white?”

Despite the fact that his real name is not Lance, he gets a little bit offended. Racism is a common thing but it’s not so blatant amongst teenagers. Well, usually.

“It’s the name my mama gave me.” He brushes them off instead of calling them out. A glance at the clock on his phone says that study hall is almost over so he opts to sit and endure this bullshit.

“Why?” Dilan tilts her head and he gets the feeling that she’s being genuinely curious. She’s not white herself, her skin being a couple shades darker than the rest of her friends. Dilan does not belong in this friend group but oh well, it’s none of his business. It’s her life and if she wants to spend it miserable that’s on her.

“Because they just did.”

“Bu-”

“Hey Lance, what’s going on over here.” At the sound of Keith’s voice the sour look is wiped off of Lance’s expression and is instead replaced with relief. The girls look dumbfounded and scramble to collect themselves. His friend sits next to him and pretends they aren’t there. He wonders how much of the conversation Keith heard.

Kennedy fluffs up her straight blond hair. “Hi, I’m-”

“Hunk wants to know if some girl named Katie can come tonight.” Lance forgot the Keith shared a study hall with Hunk.

Macy smooths out her ugly orange uniform.“So, Kei-”

“Why’s he asking me? Shouldn’t it be up to you?” Keith shrugs.

“I told him I didn’t care so he wanted to run it by you first.”

Dilan picks at her fingernails anxiously. “What are you gu-”

“Oh okay. That’s fine with me then, Katie’s cool.”

By the time the bell rings the three of them look beyond annoyed. Keith pays no attention to them and they can’t stand it. Keith and Lance leave them behind and continue their conversation without interruption.

Kennedy looks furious. He knows that the rumor hill is going to be ripe with Lance McClain in everybody’s mouths.

Lance grins.

Good.

 

»»-------------¤-------------««

 

_“Alejandro Vicente Nico Serrano!”_

_The boy looks up from his kneeled position in the garden and sees his Abuelo fuming. He knows shrinking away will lead to worse punishment so instead he stays perfectly still and stares up at his Abuelo with wide eyes. “Was it you who took my cigars?”_

_He blinks._

_“What do you mean Abuelo?”_

_The man gives him a once over before cursing and throwing his hands up. “Marco.” He says with vehemence. “It was Marco!” With that he’s stomping away. Alejandro watches, subtly putting his hand in his pocket and stroking the edge of the brand new box of cigars._

_Rachel sneaks out from behind the big Roystonea Regia that grows in their backyard. She clutches a box of matches in her tiny hands._

_“Score?” She asks, hesitantly._

_“Score.”_

 

»»-------------¤-------------««

 

Shiro is the one who drops them off at the movies. Keith supposedly owns a motorbike but it’s out of commission at the moment. This is first time Shiro has ever met Hunk and Katie but the two clearly knew all about him already. Not surprising in slightest considering Katie’s brother is on the Kerberos staff and Hunk’s fanboy crush.

Shiro has a nice car. It’s modern, the newest addition to the Honda 3013 lineup. Still, it’s only got four seats so three of them are crammed in the back. Because Hunk is the largest out of the four he got to sit up front. Lance is in the middle of Keith and Katie, who are both smushed up against him awkwardly. He can feel Keith’s breath against his neck and Katie’s bony elbow is pressed into his side.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, jabbing again. Lance wheezes. “Woah dude when the fu-frick did you get abs?”

Shiro makes a noise and Keith sits quietly. His body temperature has heated though. Hunk cranes his neck.

“He does morning push ups.”

“What? For real?” She looks at him skeptically.

“I mean, yeah man. Gotta keep up the summer bod all year long you know?”

“Keith does those too.” Shiro hums and Keith snaps out of whatever daze he was previously in. “And a morning jog around campus.”

“Nice! Buddy, you gotta take me with you sometime!” Keith nods, still not speaking.

“I do weightlifting,” Hunk chimes in nervously. “My max is 290.”

“It’s super cool whenever he does it, too. Like, his muscles start bulging out and he doesn’t even pop a sweat.” Keith is looking interested at Hunk now.

“My max is 250.” He speaks up finally. Lance quirks an eyebrow. Who knew Keith was into things like weightlifting?

“And my max is a one hundred hour Popfilm binge.” Katie says with a grin, clearly not one for exercising. They all, sans Shiro, give her a deadpan stare. The fifteen year old giggles.

“What in the world were you binging for one hundred hours?” Shiro asks.

“Anime.” Hunk supplies without letting Katie answer. She scowls.

“I’ve only known you for a week! How the hel-heck do you know that?”

“Your phone case,” Keith points out. “It has an anime girl on it.” She sputters and shuts up for the first time he’s met her.

“There’s nothing wrong with anime.” Lance consoles. “I think it’s cool.”

“Gee, thanks Lance. The person who gets actual handwritten letters from his mommy thinks anime is cool.” That draws an actual laugh out of Keith and everyone else follows en suite. So this is what it’s like to be at the butt of a joke. Nobody aside from Veronica has ever really made fun of him because they know what he’s capable of.

Living life as an actual teenager is so weird. And dramatic, might he add. After the laughter dies down and Lance begins to sulks, he notices that Keith slowly starts cuddling up more and more to him. Even after they get out to go get their tickets and sit in the theater the warmth stays resonated within him like a fluffy blanket being wrapped around his shoulders. How long had it been since he welcomed touch like that?

He can still recall the time a handsy drunk got too close to him. Alejandro loves to party. He loves the adrenaline of something that isn’t revolved around violence. Shocking, he knows. But just because he likes to get drunk off his ass does not mean he likes being touched. The greasy man put his hand on Alejandro’s waist and next thing he knows he’s pinned to the ground with a broken arm twisted around his back.

Keith isn’t a greasy old man though, Lance rationalizes. No, he’s a teenage boy with bright eyes and an even brighter future. He does not mind the touch because maybe Keith would be able to spare him some of that natural charm.

He recalls what Kennedy said. Mysterious, she claimed. Watching Keith become mesmerized by the action sequences on the theater screen Lance wants to tell her that he’s an open book. He’s only an enigma to those who do not look hard enough and to those he does not care for. He’s so excited about the movie that he doesn’t even notice when Lance gets up for a restroom break.

Really, he just needed to stretch a bit. Long legs and those awful fold out seats do not go well together. As he’s washing his hands he notices the exact moment he’s not alone anymore. Steps echo throughout the empty bathroom and a stall door opens and closes. Lance continues to scrub the bacteria away, humming a small tune underneath his breath.

Just someone needing to take a piss too.

He was wrong.

“..Leo?” A small voice asks. It’s a voice he’d been thinking about for the entire day. It plagued his dreams last night, tugging and pulling at his unconsciousness viciously. This was cruel Lord, he broods. So cruel. Alejandro does not want to be confronted by her, he wants nothing to do with her. She’s a traitor.

Alejandro stops washing his hands.

“Rachel.” He turns to get a look at her but she’s not within immediate sight. She's hiding within a stall like a coward. This is not the girl he grew up with, he reminds himself. “How did you find me?” He asks in quiet Spanish.

She’s silent for a second.

“I tracked your phone. It was in some of papi’s files on your mission.”

“So you’ve been by the house?”

“Yes, I have.”

There’s another tension filled pause.

“Why are you here, Rachel?" His voice is as cold and bitter as ice.

She doesn't seem put off by the coldness as she speaks once more. “I...I just wanted to let you know that I left because…” He waits with bated breath. Maybe her reason is a good one, maybe his anger is irrational and brash. Hope climbs and clogs up his throat once more. And he’s prepared for whatever it is she has to say. That's what he thought at least but the reality is nothing could’ve prepared him for her next words.

“...because I am with child.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, and finally, the plot thickens.


	8. Sweat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost 6k words and you'll either love it or hate it. 
> 
> One thing I must say though...I'm sorry BAHAHA
> 
> Thank you so much for 100+ kudos btw!!!
> 
> WARNING! this chapter is rated M for masturbation scenes! Keith is 17 so if teenager being hormonal ain't your thing you can skip the scenes! 
> 
> Also, mentions of minors smoking pot.

Keith is scared of losing people.

That much is obvious from the way he’s so drawn into himself. He doesn’t just…make friends. He fucks people, yes, but the moment there’s a connection he’s done. No matter how hard Shiro has tried, he’s never been able to stick with a person before cutting them off. Of course he didn’t used to be like this. Dad dying just sort of started that downward spiral into isolationism.

Shiro, for some reason, just stuck around and he couldn’t shake him off no matter how hard he tried. That didn’t change the fact that Keith’s horrified at the thought of something happening to him and every once and a while he’ll try to push away. It never lasts too long though. All Shiro has to do is flash him those puppy dog eyes and Keith is back sitting at his kitchen table for dinner every night.

Forum friends are a different story. He doesn’t really even consider them friends either, just people he goes to when he wants to hear the latest conspiracies or give some of his own. Before and even after Shiro they were his entire life. One day he’s trying to prove the existence of bigfoot and then the next he’s pointing out government scandals that were staged. He didn’t want to leave that little niche of his and saw no reason too much to Shiro’s dismay.

But then came along Lance McClain with his blue eyes and sunshine smile. Upon first getting a look at him in orientation he was one hundred percent smitten. And God, that horrified him to no end. Smitten isn’t a word he’d ever associated with himself until that insufferable boy that laughs like nobody's watching came into his life.

It was only a matter of time before he did something, really. He saw that chance six months after first seeing Lance.

Iverson’s a hardass. It’s not a hidden fact and Keith’s never cared enough to object against him. Lance is up at the board though. Whenever he’s up there he’s the center of Keith’s world and to just let Iverson make him feel stupid...it was unacceptable. At a glance at his own paper, Lance didn’t even do anything wrong.

“You forgot-” The old man starts but Keith doesn’t let him get far.

“He got it right.” And then blue eyes are searching for the person with balls big enough to come to his defense with a confused look. Keith steels himself.

“Excuse me? Who said that?”

He can feel his heart thrum through his veins with how tight he’s got his fists balled up. “Me.” He says and this is it, he thinks as those beautiful eyes finally land on him for the first time in six months. The confusion morphs into surprise. He breaks eye contact with Keith to give Iverson a once over and something amused crosses his face.

“That makes you both wrong.”

He’s flying on autopilot now. “Or maybe you’re the one who got it wrong.”

“Can’t help but agree with Mullet, sir.”

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Mullet. That’s him, isn’t it? His head floats up into the clouds and he doesn't even care that he’s getting detention for the first time in years. His clean streak is broken and he can’t whip up the will to want to back track. When Lance dramatically plops back down into his chair and pouts he can’t help but stare with adoration.

»»-------------¤-------------««

Shiro was not happy with him.

“Detention?” He balked. “Keith! You were doing so well!” The boy in question dragged his fork through his mashed potatoes and shrugged.

“Iverson was being a dick.”

“Iverson is always being a dick, Keith.”

“This time it was different!” He insisted, starting to get a little bit angry. He hates being badgered even if it is well meaning.

Shiro sighed and put his head into his hands. Under his breath he muttered something in japanese and Keith had half the decency to feel a little bit ashamed. Truth be told he was doing pretty good with his disciplinary issues and Shiro was so proud of him. He almost felt a bit guilty at disappointing this man.

Then he remembers Lance’s eyes on him and he just couldn’t really have the power to regret his decision.

»»-------------¤-------------««

 

“Hey there. Whatcha working on?” Keith can feel the beaming smile from here. His heart clogs up his throat and makes his response short and gruff without really meaning too.

“Sorting.” He says as he continues to shift through the papers.

“No duh. Whatcha sorting?”

Keith doesn’t know what to do so he shrugs. “Iverson just handed me a stack of papers and said to sort the passing grades from the failing.”

The other is silent for a moment and it makes Keith panic. He’d already said the wrong thing, hadn’t he?

“Sounds boring. Want any help? I’d rather be sorting through grades than scraping gum.”

He finally builds up the courage to look up at Lance but just as quickly he glances back to the papers. He finds himself shrugging and splitting the papers up. He doesn’t say anything else.

Being in such close proximity with Lance, of all people, is so intoxicating. His personality is like weed and trust Keith when he says not much compares to weed. Eighth grade was a crazy year and he doesn’t remember it because he was high off his ass for most of it. Lance’s presence is like someone mixing buds of every different marijuana strain and wrapping them into one blunt.

It’s crazy. Does Lance know anything about weed? He wonders. At first glance one would assume definitely not. He seems like one of those good kids who took a ‘say no to drugs’ pledge in kindergarten and took it seriously. But looks can be deceiving. For all he knows, Lance could be doing crack lines every night before bed.

“Oh, hey dude, this is yours!” Keith blinks when a paper is shoved into his face. “Woah, you’re friggin’ smart.” Keith’s soul has descended into heaven and he has to fight valiantly to keep a stupid grin off of his face.

“Not really. I’m better at Algebra than I am at Geometry.” Which is sort of the truth. Last year he made a 95 in geometry.

“I suck at both.” He speaks with a sigh. “Math is the worst. I’m way better at science.” He wants to rejoice at knowing something new about Lance. What kind of science, he wants to ask. Do you love the stars too?

“I’m alright at science, but I’m actually the best in English.” He loves reading and he loves writing. It comes to no surprise that he’s superior at language arts than anything else.

“English? Never expected that.” Keith stops sorting paper and raises his eyebrows to hide how offended he feels.

“What’s the supposed to mean?” He asks defensively.

“I don’t mean that in a bad way! I meant like, I expected you to be really good in like, science too or something. You just don’t seem like the english type.” The offense is gone but he’s still a little weary.

“Oh. I just really like reading and I guess that helps a lot in class.”

“Lucky! I suck at everything but Science.” Keith doesn’t respond at first as his mind churns. He wants to help Lance so, so badly. He wants to be useful to this stranger and see him succeed and be full of pride knowing it was him that helped get him there. It’s selfish of him, really.

He doesn’t care.

“I could help.”

“Pardon?”

“I mean. I could like...help you with classes you’re struggling with if you’d like.” At his grin Keith feels like he’s curing cancer. He’s on top of the world and floating in euphoria.

“Oh dude, really? I’ll totally take you up on that offer!”

“Alright. Cool.”

Keith smiles openly, his heart doing jumping jax. They work for a little bit longer and when Lance finishes his pile he gets up to scrape gum. While he works, he hums a little tune under his breath. It’s pleasant, the soft vibrations filling his ears warmly. Judging from the tune Keith would peg Lance as an actual singer.

He wants to hear his voice.

“Keith.” Lance whines suddenly. His breath stutters.

“Yeah?”

“I hate this.”

“I know.”

“I really hate this. My nails!”

Keith ignores him for the sake of his own sanity.

Ten minutes pass and he’s at it again.

“I just shaped these up!”

Ten more minutes.

“I think I might actually die, Keith. I’m going to get carpal tunnel and I am going to die.”

The next ten minutes go by and Keith snaps, the adorable whines finally getting to him and driving him to insanity.

“They’re never going to be the same-”

“Lance.” He deadpans, pushing away from the table and walking over to him. He’s under a desk and the only thing he can see is legs sprawled out. “Get up.”

“Whaaat? Why?” Lance scoots out from underneath the desk and sits up. His hands come to rest in between his thighs and his bottom lip is slightly pushed out. God, this boy is nothing but raw sex appeal and Keith doesn’t know how to handle this. He frowns.

“Because I’m tired of you complaining. Trade with me.” His face lightens up instantly.

“You’re the best!” He practically purrs and hops up to go sort more papers at the table. For the rest of the hour, Keith lays under the table and scrapes gum with a cherry red blush and an infuriating hard on.

 

»»-------------¤-------------««

The next day, Keith spills water on Lance.

Really, it’s the uniform’s fault. He’d been requesting pants with shorter legs ever since the beginning of the semester and they have yet to send him new ones. So, it’s cliche. He knows this. But he slips on the hems of his pants legs with an open water bottle and it goes flying onto Lance.

He just stands there and blinks. Keith looks up in shame.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Eh, it’s all good.” He shoots him a grin and-

And he’s taking off his uniform jacket. The white tank top underneath hugs tightly to his chest and outlines lean muscles and a six pack. He’s subtly ripped. Is that possible? Lance makes it possible. Keith bets he could make anything possible.

He thinks back to that moment later in bed. He thanks God for the lack of a roommate because he can’t take it anymore. The thoughts of Lance are so consuming and seeing his damned abs don’t cut Keith any breaks. He lays in bed for an hour before giving up and shucking his pants and underwear off.

Contrary to popular belief, Keith does experience sexual needs. He’s not just some robot who thinks about nothing but piloting and grades. You can ask Gregory Elroy, who had his brains sucked out through his dick in Corridor B’s janitor closet. But despite the fact that he is indeed a sexual being, Keith does not masturbate.

It’s just so...awkward to him. It always feels like somethings watching him as he does his business.

He can’t find that awkwardness now though. His hand trails down his own defined stomach and ghosts over his dick. Is masturbating to someone he’s only talked to twice a good idea? It seems so shameful. Keith’s never masturbated to the thoughts of a real person. Lance is probably a better person than he is. God, he’d probably be mortified if he knew what Keith was doing right now.

For some reason that drives him to continue.

He shudders as he wraps a hand around the base of his thick girth. Slowly, he strokes upwards and grips the skin with enough pressure to have some of it bunch over the tip of his dick in a pleasant manner. “Fuck,” he groans softly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Images of Lance flash through his mind.

Lance smiling,

Lance laughing.

Lance chewing on his bottom lip while taking a math test.

Lance on his knees in front of him, blue eyes staring into his soul as his lips wrap around his length.

Lance layed out beneath him like a four course meal ready to be ravished, legs spread wide and filthy for him.

In his hazed dream, he bends down to lick the curve of his throat. Lance moans, encouraging the motion with a hand wrapped in his hair, pulling him closer and closer. He imagines himself buried in Lance as he thrusts up into his closed fist with earnest.

“Keith,” he whines the same way he did in detention yesterday. “Please. More, more.” Those perfectly manicured nails claw down his back.

“Lance,” Keith whispers in a broken voice. His thumb swipes across his weeping tip. In his head, it’s lance’s dick he’s stroking. He throws his head back into his pillows and groans loudly. “So good, you feel so good, I-”

His hips stutter. He’s coming so hard he sees stars behind his eyelids and has an angel’s name on his lips. He pumps himself through it, conjuring up dream-Lance coming in long spurts over his muscular abdomen. Keith slumps down into his bed and stares at the ceiling when he finally runs empty and becomes over sensitive. The boy gasps for a breath that’s running away from him. When he catches it and comes back to reality he finds stares up at the ceiling for a solid five minutes.

“What the fuck is wrong with me.” Keith asks himself before rolling out of bed to clean up. He’s not about to wallow in his own dried up jizz.

»»-------------¤-------------««

 

They agreed to meet up at the Starbucks that’s closest to campus. One reason is because of the convenience and the cheap coffee they offer garrison students and another is because his room is a disaster. Hey man, it happens when you’re going through a splurge of weekend laziness. If Lance were to step into it now, he’d die of embarrassment.

He figures dressing up would be too obvious so he opts out of it for a much more casual outfit. Hell, he even skips the morning cologne and sticks with nothing but deodorant just in case. Keith doesn’t want this to come off as a date, he doesn’t. Wooing an acquaintance he just so happens to masturbate to is not on his bucket list. He’d rather save himself from that humiliation, thank you very much.

And then Lance is doing that.

“Mullet, Keith, Buddy, we spent two days in detention together! If that’s not intimate then I don’t know what is.” The other says as he runs a hand through his hair. He bats his eyelashes in a jokingly flirtatious manner and Keith wants to die. Or suck his dick. Or suck his dick and then kill himself afterwards to save himself the awkwardness.

“Hardly. It was more me scraping the gum while you hid in the corner and finished up papers.”

“Hey, hey! I accomplished a ton! For example, a list of people to roast because damn! Those grades were God fucking awful.”

“What did you make again?”

“I- none of your beeswax! That’s what!”

He feels kind of guilty for the snide comment. Instead of apologising like he wants to he rolls his eyes and opens up his binder to pull out a worksheet he’d spent approximately thirty minutes to work on. “The Garrison worksheets suck so I made my own.” He explains at Lance’s confused look.

“All of this for me? And it’s only our first date!” He can’t stop the burning in his face or the shortness of breath.

Date? He called this a date? The rational side of Keith’s brain is pointing at that it’s all a joke but that doesn’t matter because he’s short circuiting.

“Enough procrastinating, Lance. Here,” The words are coming out of his mouth but he doesn’t hear them. Keith is flying through cloud 9 as he hands Lance five bucks. It’s enough for two black coffees and that’s it. “Go get us some coffee.”

When Lance comes back he doesn’t comment on the fact that Keith wrote down his number on the worksheet as well. In the end though, he writes his own on the receipt for the coffee.

“Just in case I forget.” He winked.

The receipt felt heavy in his pocket for hours afterwards.

 

»»-------------¤-------------««

Four hours later and Keith finally gathers up enough courage to send him a message. He’s sitting at his desk now, which is much more clean that it was a few hours ago.

Hey. It’s Keith.

**(xxx)-xxx-xxxx: heyyy mullet!! whats poppin my dude**

Keith smiles at the bad grammar.

 **Told you not to call me that.**  
**Also who says “what’s poppin”?**

**Lance: me duh. it means how r u, for future referance**

And so they interact for a little while via text messaging. But temptation is too sweet and addicting. Where was his impulse control when he needed it?

Come to my dorm.

He types out before deleting it.

We can meet up in the commons to-

He groans and deletes that message as well.

**You can come over to my dorm if you want and I can help out some more.**

Keith presses send before he backs out like the coward he is.

**Lance: Ooooooh???? ;)**

Keith chokes. “Stop fucking with me Lance!” He scolds his phone.

**Not like that!**

**Lance: lol i know! Omw!**

He sighs and puts his phone down before looking around his freshly cleaned bedroom. He kind of feels embarrassed about all the 21st century merch now but it’s too late to tear down over fifty posters. Keith hopes Lance isn’t judgmental. His last hook up took one look at his room and snorted rudely that Keith felt put off the whole time he was fucking into him.

He ended up deleting his number.

»»-------------¤-------------««

 

So far Lance has done nothing but compliment him. This feels like a hook up even though Keith knows for a fact he’d never do something like that. Or would he? He eyes Lance, who’s laying on his side next to him listening intently to the lyrics of My Chemical Romance. God, it’s such an oldie. None of the band members are even alive anymore and not for the first time Keith feels like he missed out on such an amazing generation.

“This is emo.” Keith snorts.

“That term died out like 20 years ago.”

“Did it?” Lance hums. “That sucks. It fits you perfectly.”

Keith chews on the inside of his cheek, feeling hurt. “Ah.”

“Mulleeet, that’s not a bad thing y’know. Emo people are fucking hot. Have you seen McKenna Felton?” The proclaimed emo boy blinks.

“The lead singer to Burning Roses? You know them?” Lance grins.

“Surprised?”

“A little bit, I’m not even going to lie. I pegged you more as a hip hop type of person.”

A deep chuckle rumbles through the other’s chest. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

Maybe it’s the way he said it, quietly and contemplatively, that gets Keith to stay quiet through the next four songs. He wants to know Lance. He wants to know every single little thing about him so bad that it hurts. He’s his next conspiracy, Keith realizes. His big break.

Keith had always been told he was confusing. He’s been told that he was a puzzle that’s missing pieces and for the longest time he’s believed them. But now, as he mulls over Lance’s words, he knows that it’s not true. He’s just difficult and he doesn’t have any plans to change that. But Lance?

Lance is the real puzzle here.

»»-------------¤-------------««

When he leaves he swipes up the throw over blanket he was using and shoves it into his face, inhaling roughly.

Lance smells like stale cigarettes and coconut. It shouldn’t go together but Lance makes it work. He makes it work so well that when he gets another sniff of it all the blood travels to his dick like a dam being broken. This is so wrong. So, so, so wrong. He pushes his pants off and wraps his bare legs around the red, fluffy fabric that’s still warm from Lance.  
He ruts against it desperately and comes surrounded by the overpowering presence of Lance in his nose.

He sighs, closes his eyes to go back to sleep, and then screams into his pillow when the phone starts ringing. He doesn’t even have to look to know it’s Shiro because he did something taboo.

He skipped dinner.

“...Hello?”

“Keith Akira Kogane, you have two seconds to tell me why you bailed on the Lasagna i slaved over.”

“...I...was busy.”

“Busy?” Keith resists a groan and buries his head back into his pillow. “Too busy to appreciate the delicious food I cook for you?”

“Like I said, I was busy.” His voice is muffled. Shiro pauses.

“Are you still in bed?”

“Mhm.”

“Keith.” He hates the accusatory tone. “You’re not doing the thing again, are you?”

“...What thing.” He knows the thing.

“Sleeping with people!” Keith snorts.

“If I was with someone right now I wouldn’t have answered the phone.”

“But you were with someone?” Keith hates how accusatory the tone is. Shiro catches a boy in his dorm once and all of a sudden he’s deemed untrustworthy. He hasn’t even had sex since then and that was about three months ago.

“Not sexually.” He admits. “We just talked for a little while and he ended up falling asleep.”

“In your bed?”

“No, on the floor. I swear.”

“Pinky swear?” Keith rolls his eyes.

“Pinky swear.”

“Good.” There’s relief in his voice. Keith wonders why Shiro cares so much. It’s annoying more than it is flattering but he’s not about to complain and break his friend’s fragile heart. “So….who was it.”

“Just...a friend.”

“And the friends name?”

“You ask too many questions.”

“And you never give me enough to satisfy my curiosity, you heathen child. Spill.” He knows that Shiro will go through security cams if he doesn’t give the information he wants. It’s just how Shiro is, nosy and irritating as fuck. He was better off inviting Lance to dinner but like Hell that was going to happen.

“Lance.” There’s a pregnant pause. Keith frowns. “Shiro?”

“Sorry, sorry. Lance McClain?” Keith quirks his eyebrow.

“You know him?”

“Of him, yes. Listen, I’ve got to talk to Iverson. Talk to you later tonight, okay?”

“Alright, bye.” The phone clicks and turns off.

Keith has a bad feeling. Instead of hopping up to get ready for his morning workout he rolls over and shucks off his soiled undergarments. He’ll shower after this quick nap.

 

»»-------------¤-------------««

“So, Captain Shirogane seems nice.”

Keith wants to die.

“Oh my God I am so sorry about that. He is so, so nosy.” Lance laughs and he feels a bit better. He really has an angelic laugh.

“It’s no worries Mullet! I thought it was fucking hilarious.”

Keith didn’t find it funny in the slightest. This is not funny. This is the opposite of funny. This is like, a crime against his privacy and he hates Shiro at the moment.

“Lance, please.” He uncharacteristically begs.

“Aw, I’m sorry.” And then Lance is touching him.

Oh God, Lance is touching him. No brush of the shoulders, no tips of fingers touching as he hand him money. It’s honest, raw contact and he wants to scream. He peeks through the cage of his hands and ignores the skyrocketing heart rate that’s sure to send him into cardiac arrest.

“Not your fault.”

When the touch leaves him Keith feels like he’s falling off a cliff after a bus has crashed into him. Lance catches his eye later, smiling and sending soft and mushy and gross feeling throughout his body. Not good, this is not good.

»»-------------¤-------------««

Keith is ready to throw down when Adam walks into the classroom. No, he has no forgiven him. No, he won’t even consider. The asshole breaks Shiro’s heart and plays the teary eyed victim and he expect Keith to still be his friend? Fuck him. Who breaks up with their fiance because he’s following his dreams? Shiro is literally fucking dying and all Adam cares about is himself. He can go take his wedding ring and shove it up his damn ass.

He doesn’t even look at Keith.

What a fucking coward.

He talks with the teacher silently and he sees Lance’s friend, Hunk, blinking rapidly with shock. His stomach sinks at the frown on the boy’s face. Hunk never frowns. Why is he frowning? Lance walks out and he’s all grins and cheery laughs. A girl, Natalie he thinks, trails behind him with a blush.

And then there’s James. Ugh. He decides he doesn’t like the Natalie girl and he sure as fuck doesn’t care for James.

“Instructor Walker would like a word with you, McClain.”

Fire rushes through his veins. Oh no.

Adam is not doing what he thinks he’s doing, is he? This is a scam, a ploy to make Keith feel bad. He just knows it. Adam is a conniving little shit and he wants to punch that smug look off of his face. When Adam and Lance walk out of the room the Instructor, Mrs. Mallroy, ushers them out of the class with a strange expression.

Actually, instead of fighting, he kind of wants to cry.

“Hey, Keith,” Hunk says. Keith allows his eyes to fall on the other, who’s standing at Lance’s desk with a frown. “Come here please.”

“What?” He asks a bit miserably when he finds his way over to the bigger guy.

“You heard Mrs. Mallroy and Mr. Walker’s conversation right?”

“No. But I have an idea.” Hunk gets a solemn look on his face. It doesn’t look good on someone built for love and happiness.

“I didn’t hear it all but he said something about Lance being an exceptional pilot. Doesn’t sound good, nuh uh, not one bit. I hate it.”

“Me too.”

Lance walks in and Hunk jumps to action quickly.

“What is with you and teachers wanting to get on your good side lately?”

“You know, truth be told, I’m really not sure.” Keith scowls.

“What was the conversation about?”

“Eh apparently I’m getting transferred over to Captain Walker’s class next week.”

He’s falling, falling, falling. It’s just one class without Lance. He still has Algebra with him. It’s not the end of the world. But it sure as hell feels like it. An entire hour of Lance cut out of his life just seems cruel. Couldn’t Adam think of something else to do? Anything else to torment him?

»»-------------¤-------------««

“So, Lance,” He begins.

“Yeah?”

Keith steels himself. “The new MechaBot movie is coming out tomorrow.”

Lance grins. So beautiful, he thinks as inner Keith sighs dreamily. “Oh dude, I know! I’m so pumped! No matter how many reboots they give it the shit never gets old.”

Can Lance be anymore perfect? He likes his taste in music, loves his 21st century aesthetic, compliments his rock collection, and apparently likes cheesy actions movies too.

“Well…I wanted to know if you…” He panics. He can’t do this, not alone with him. And Shiro at the back of the theatre but hey man, free ride without bus fare is worth it. “...you and Hunk would like to go see it with me?”

“Tomorrow?” He’s not saying no. Keith crosses his fingers. Please don’t say no.

“Yeah.”

“I know I’m free but Hunk’s always doing something. I’ll ask him for sure though!”

“So you’re for sure going?”

“Hell yeah!”

“Cool.”

And really, there was no way he could stop himself for smiling like a goddamn idiot.

“Can’t wait til then.” The breathy voice sends him reeling.

“Same here.”

As soon as Lance is gone for the night, he’s calling Shiro.

“He said yes.” Keith speaks calmly.

“Oh!! Get it, Keith!!”

“His friend is coming too.”

“Aw, did you chicken out?”

“I didn’t chicken out of anything! It’s a friend thing Shiro, a friend thing!”

“Sure, sure, A friend thing. I get it.”

Keith sighs angrily and hangs up. What a dickhead.

 

»»-------------¤-------------««

 

Becoming acquaintances with Hunk was unsurprisingly easy. He loved everyone and everything so of course he makes his way to Keith during their study hall together and strikes up conversation. And then he’s talking about a girl named Katie who Keith would ‘totally adore because she’s like a violent kitten’ so there’s no way that Keith says no to her coming along. Who says no to Hunk?

A monster, thats who.

“Ask Lance first though.”

Keith blinks.

“I don’t think he’d care.”

“Please? I don’t wanna make a decision without him. I think he feels excluded sometimes y’know?”

“Oh. Alright. Why can’t you do it?”

“Because I have to go run some errands for my Mechatronics teacher.” Why not text then, he wants to ask but the look in Hunk’s eyes stops him.

Hm.

“Okay, okay. I’ll go do it.”

“Thank you so much! You’re a blessing!”

That’s how he finds himself on the other side of the school, guiltily eavesdropping in on a conversation. He hadn’t meant to originally, but he heard his name and just...didn’t stop listening. He didn’t start getting angry until the burnet with a bobbed haircut spoke up.

“It means that you’re you. Loud and stupid and he’s him! Quiet, intelligent, and oh so dashing and mysterious.”

And, to put a cherry on top, the snide comments about his race. Keith may be white (well, quarter japanese but he doesn't really count that.) but that doesn’t mean he’s just going to listen to them insult Lance while they gush about him.

“Hey Lance, what’s going on over here.” And slowly, he drags them away from that awful situation by cutting those girls off and ignoring them every chance he gets.

“Hey man, thanks for being my knight in shining armor back there.”

Keith’s face reddens.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Lance.”

 

»»-------------¤-------------««

“Oh my god,” Katie gasps, jabbing her elbow into Lance’s side. He makes a choked noise. So far, Keith likes her. She’s got a potty mouth from Hell and a spitfire personality. For a freshman she’s actually pretty cool.

And then she’s commenting on one of the main features to his wet dreams. Thanks, Katie.

“Woah dude when the fu-frick did you get abs?”

Everything heats up as the image of Lance’s abs covered in cum flash before his very eyes. Oh, fictional Lance, now is not the time to get him all hot and riled up.

“He does morning push ups.”

Lance, hot and sweaty in the mornings, going up and down on the floor should not be as sexy as it is.

He zones out. Lance on top of him, his elegant hands holding himself up near both sides of his head. His hips move in a rhythmic fashion, in and out so fast and so hard that it takes the breath out of him and has him arching.

Holy shit he’s thinking about this with Shiro not even a fucking foot away from him. What has happened to him? Did Lance poison his mind? It’s starting to really seem like it. Keith loves to fuck but he’s never been so perverted before. What would his dad think of him if he saw the state he was in? Not good, that’s for damn sure.

“Keith does those too.” He’s thankfully ripped out of his inner turmoil. “And a morning jog around campus.”  
“Nice! Buddy, you gotta take me with you sometime!” Lance says and all he can do is nod weakly. The last thing he wants is an actual visual of Lance breathing heavy and being so sweaty that his shirt stick to his skin and out- Okay, that’s enough of that.

“I do weightlifting, my max is 290.” This is good. Keith can do this. He can focus on something trivial like Hunk doing weightlifting and having a god-tier max.

“It’s super cool whenever he does it, too. Like, his muscles start bulging out and he doesn’t even pop a sweat.” He can see that. Except when he thinks of Hunk all sweaty and worn out he doesn’t get horny, he just feels incredibly bad for him.

“My max is 250.” He says and Lance gives him a look. An impressed look.

“And my max is a one hundred hour Popfilm binge.”

“What in the world were you binging for one hundred hours?”

“I’ve only known you for a week! How the hel-heck do you know that?” Her efforts to keep from cursing are adorable at best. Shiro knows what’s up. Hell, Shiro curses like a sailor too. You should see him on game night when he’s playing as Mario. It seems like the only word in his vocabulary is fuck.

“Your phone case, It has an anime girl on it.” An anime girl from Tokyo Panic, might he add. What a cheesy anime.

She opens her mouth to respond a couple of times before not saying anything. Wow, she actually shut up for once. For someone so smart academically she sure is fucking dense, bless her heart. She could really use some pointer from a social bird like Lance.

Actually, he could too.

He drowns out the rest of the small talk and only snorts a little when Katie makes a jab at Lance’s supposed letters from his mom. He thinks it’s sweet actually. It’s nice that Lance is close to his family to do something so mundane and obscure in the twenty second century. If Dad were still alive he’d probably pull the same shit too.

Without realizing quite meaning to, he gets closer and closer to Lance until their pressed flush together. Keith just can’t help it. There’s something magnetic about him that pulls Keith both physically and mentally towards the other. Lance doesn’t say anything, nor does anyone else comment on the closeness of the two.

It doesn’t mean anything.

Sitting next to each other in the movie theater doesn’t mean anything either.

And feeling lost when Lance leaves to go relieve himself certainly doesn’t mean anything.

When Lance comes back, a tired look in his eyes and stress lines creasing his forehead, he doesn’t question it, just slips his hand up underneath the armrest and takes hold of the other’s palm.

It doesn’t mean anything when Lance squeezes back, he tells himself.

It doesn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well....now we know how Keith feels lMAO


End file.
